Loading...Gemma Young paced back and forth in her living room as she furiously scolded her son. Never in her wildest dreams had she expected to come home from work to find him having sex not only with their neighbor Sarah Matthews, but with her cute daughter Ashley too! Fancy that — a mother-daughter combo! Right there in her very own bedroom! The audacity of it! To see them both kneeling before him, covered in spunk. She had been lost for words and had just stood in the doorway eyes-wide aghast.
A few seconds later she had kicked the two tramps out of her house and violently dragged her naked son into their living room. She had ranted. She had raved. She had thrown cushions at him and she had shouted herself speechless. And the entire time he had just sat there, as calm as the day is long. A wry little smile playing across his face, apparently not in the least bit embarrassed that he had been caught or that he now sat completely naked in front of his own mother. Most eighteen-year olds would have blushed and stammered and offered a million apologies and excuses. But not Ben. He just sat there, he almost looked amused. And look — his cock was still semi-hard! Had he no shame?
Finally she gained control of herself, she took a deep breath and sat down on the edge of the coffee table.
“I’m not going to ask why, you’re eighteen, and the answer’s obvious.” She said. “But how Ben? That’s what amazes me the most — I mean it was a mother and daughter for heaven’s sake! How?”
Ben regarded his mom for a few seconds and his face creased as though he were considering his answer carefully.
“Would you believe that I was just irresistible?”
She looked back at him with a scornful stare. “No-one is that irresistible. Try again mister, I want the truth.”
“The truth?”
“Yes. We’re not moving from here until you’re completely honest with me. Or maybe you like sitting naked in front of your own mother?”
To her amazement her son simply shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. “Whatever floats your boat mom. Don’t think I haven’t caught you catching a peak of the good stuff.” He brazenly indicated his cock.
Gemma flushed a deep beetroot, stunned by his cockiness.
“Don’t test your luck kiddo. You may think you’re a hot little charmer but I am your mother.”
“Oh I know who you are, maybe better than you know yourself.”
“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”
Ben looked her up and down appraisingly and her blood ran cold. She suddenly felt like she was the one who was naked and not the other way around.
“The truth?” He asked, “That’s really what you want?”
She nodded.
“I can control people’s minds.” He sat back in the sofa, hands behind his head.
She waited for the punch line but it never came. They matched stares for a few seconds before she pulled herself away. There was something about his eyes she’d never noticed before. They were kind of, well, empty. It was like being sucked into a vacuum. She shook her head and blinked a few times, amazed that he’d been able to shock her into silence like this.
“You can control people’s minds.” She repeated skeptically.
“Yes.”
“Is that supposed to be funny?”
“Oh I find it very funny.” He said. “But to be honest it’s getting rather boring. It’s not even a challenge anymore. I mean Sarah Matthews AND Ashley Matthews. At the same time. And they gave in so easily.”
“That’s not funny Ben. Stop lying to me.”
“I’m not. I just concentrated real hard and — poof! — their brains were scrambled.”
“Ben…” she warned impatiently.
“But do you know what I really wanted?” He continued unfazed. “I wanted to see if Mrs Matthews would eat her daughter’s pussy.”
Gemma gasped and brought her hand to her mouth. She had never heard her son speak so vulgarly, it was a side she had never seen before.
“And I think she would have done it too, it took a lot of coaxing but I think she would have done it. Imagine that. But then you came bursting in and ruined everything. Thanks heaps mom.”
“That’s enough Ben. I won’t have you talking like this in front of me. If you want to indulge in your sick little fantasies that’s fine, but don’t sit there and tell me such outrageous lies. Have some respect.”
“I can prove it.” He told her matter-of-factly.
“What?”
“I can control minds. I can prove it.” He suddenly stood up and walked to the sideboard.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
“I’m getting proof.” He scribbled something on a piece of paper, folded it neatly in half and placed it inside an envelope. On the back of the envelope he wrote their address and then placed a stamp on it. “I’m going to post this tomorrow and by the time it comes back to us I will have scrambled your brain too.”
“Are you high or something? What the hell is wrong with you?”
“It’s the truth mom.”
Gemma shook her head sadly at him. “I’m so disapp-”
Her son cut her off. “In four days time this letter will get back to us. When it does I will open it and read it to you. And then, even after I’ve proved it to you, even after you realize the truth.” He grinned at her confidently. “Even after you realize what I’ve done to you, you’re still going to get on your knees and beg to suck me off.”
Gemma slapped him hard and he reeled backwards clutching his cheek.
“How dare you speak to me like that!” She shouted, “I’m not one of those slutty little tramps you’ve just been fucking, I’m your mother for fuck-sake! How dare you! Who the fuck do you think you are?” She slapped him across the shoulder again for good measure. “Get to your room and think about what you’ve just said.”
Ben stared back at his mother silently before moving to walk away. As he passed her his hand suddenly shot out and he touched her lightly on the forehead with his index finger.
“Poof!” He said and then walked away clutching the envelope.
That night Gemma tossed and turned restlessly in her bed, completely shocked by the exchange earlier in the day. She couldn’t believe her own son would speak to her so degradingly. It was like he was a completely different person.
She’d given birth to Ben when she was eighteen and had been a young mom. She’d made her mistakes along the way, but up until today she’d always thought she’d done a good job of raising him. She’d always considered the fact that she was still young herself a bonus. She’d thought that she’d be able to manage closeness with him that an older mom couldn’t. She was only thirty-six and since he’d turned eighteen she had felt like they weren’t just mother and son, but friends too.
Maybe that was the problem. He just didn’t respect her anymore. And to tell her she was going to suck him off? Christ!
She thought about all that nonsense about being able to control peoples’ minds. Was he crazy? Was that why he was having these delusions? The fact that her son had always been popular wasn’t lost on her. Sure he could be charming at times, and he usually got the things he wanted. But for him to think that he could control minds! It beggared belief. And that lewd suggestion – was he serious? Did he really think she was going to give him a blowjob? His own mother?
She rolled over onto her back and stared up at the ceiling uncomfortably. She knew that at thirty-six she was younger than any of his friends’ moms. And she knew that all his friends secretly lusted after her, hell, they probably wanked themselves silly fantasizing about her! And she’d be lying if she didn’t admit that the thought tickled her, that at times she’d even encouraged it with her skimpy swimsuits and short skirts. But she never meant to tease HIM. Her own flesh-and-blood. She never imagined that she’d be turning him on too. She wasn’t sure she could blame him though. With her long blonde hair, blazing green eyes and trim figure with full breasts she was the fantasy of most guys in the neighborhood. Try as she might, regardless of the outfit, she looked like a porn star no matter how she dressed. Why wouldn’t a horny delusional eighteen-year old boy lust after her?
She wondered if he masturbated over her too? Or if he even realized his cock had been rock hard again when he had walked out of the room?
She slowly drifted off to sleep.
As she got dressed the following morning she decided that she wouldn’t make her son any breakfast. She was still quietly fuming over his behavior the previous day and wanted to punish him. If he wanted to mix it with the grown-ups then he could start by making his own food.
“Beg to suck him off? As if!” she muttered to herself as she brushed her hair. She’d teach him to show some respect alright.
As she walked down the stairs she was amazed to find Ben already up and dressed. He was stood by the sink washing his dishes. She paused on the stairs to watch him, looking for anything different. But he behaved just like the same old Ben, the way the son she knew and loved acted. The step creaked beneath her foot and he looked up at her, startled.
“Oh, um, morning mom.” He smiled at her sheepishly. “Look I’m really sorry for the way I spoke yesterday. It was out of line.” He gestured at the kitchen table. “I made pancakes for breakfast.” He offered by way of apology.
Gemma frowned at her son and he looked back at her uncertainly then looked at his feet. “Sorry mom.” He mumbled.
She sighed audibly and finished making her way down the stairs. She sat beside the kitchen table and silently tucked into one of the pancakes. It was good. She swallowed and then looked at him and offered a brief small smile.
“I guess it’s a start.” She told him. He looked relieved and turned back to washing the dishes.
“A start is all I ask, but I’m going to make it all up to you I promise. I’m so sorry you saw me like that. I shouldn’t have told you those things. I-I don’t know what was wrong with me, or why I said what I said. I’m so sorry mom.”
He was babbling now and she began to relax. THIS was how a teenage boy was supposed to act when he’d been busted having sex. Humble and deeply apologetic.
And pancakes! She could get used to this.
“Its okay honey, like I said, it’s a start. I just want to forget all about yesterday.”
“Thanks mom.”
“But there is one thing I want to clear up first.” She gauged his reaction carefully. “What you said you wanted me to do… you didn’t mean it did you? I mean, you wouldn’t really want me to do… that?”
Ben blushed and looked away. “Sorry mom.”
Was that a yes or a no? She wondered but let it drop for now. She’d been a horny teenager once too. Still, now that he was talking sense again maybe there was a way through all this nonsense.
“These are nice pancakes Ben.” She said and began eating another one.
“Thanks.”
As she chewed Gemma giggled nervously and tried to break the tension.
“So you can read minds eh?” She teased him.
“Control minds.” He blurted and then shrugged. “But yeah, I can read them too.”
“Okay, what color am I thinking of?”
Blue.
“Red.” Ben said instantly.
“Ha! You suck!” Gemma laughed then put her hand over her mouth. Suck? Oops! That wasn’t helping. “Some mind reader you are.”
“Controller.” He corrected her again and then smiled slyly. “Yeah I guess you’re right.” He brushed his hand through his brown hair and frowned at her. “You sure it wasn’t red? I think it was you know, and you just want to tease me. You thought of red and you wanted to tease me. Go on, admit it. It’s revenge right? You want to tease me as revenge?”
“Sorry kiddo, don’t quit your day job.”
He looked at her suspiciously, like he was still trying to read her mind. “Hmmm…” Then he threw his arms up in the air as though in defeat. “Oh knickers!” he said. “Flipping teasing red knickers.”
She started laughing. A few seconds later he joined in.
When she was done with the pancakes he cleared the dishes up and began filling the sink with water again.
“Such a good boy.” Gemma told him and squeezed his shoulder from behind.
“So, you forgive me then?”
“We’ll see sweetheart. We’ll see.”
She sat back down and drank coffee while they chatted about his plans for the summer. They carefully circled around the events of the preceding day and Gemma was quietly hopeful that they could now put it past them. When he was done drying the dishes Ben retrieved his jacket from the coat-stand and slipped into his sneakers.
“I’ve got to run some errands mom. I’ll be back in a little while if that’s okay?” He stood in their open doorway and looked back at her questioningly.
“Sure honey, whatever you need to do. Make sure you’re back by lunch though.”
“Oh its okay, I won’t be long.” He told her. “I just have to post a letter.”
“Alright. See you later baby.” She smiled happily as he closed the door behind him and walked up the garden path. Things were going to be just fine, she told herself. There’s nothing wrong with my son, he’s just-
Wait. Did he say letter?
She resisted the urge to ask him about his errand when he returned for lunch. He seemed so happy, so normal. She didn’t want to ruin things again. He was a good boy, who cares if he got a bit caught up in his fantasies?
Still, it nagged at her the rest of the day. She couldn’t quite put it to rest. Was it the same letter he’d written yesterday? And if so what did it say? It was proof he had said, how could it be proof? She remembered how self-assured he had seemed. And so it went, over and over all day long. It nagged and needled and worried her until she could take no more.
“Ben?” She asked later that night.
“Hmmph?” He murmured distractedly, caught up in the Saturday night movie.
“What was that letter you posted this morning?”
He gave a little side-long glance at her “Oh, ah, nothing.”
“Ben?” she moaned at him. “Tell me.”
Her son sighed and turned to face her. “It was just a letter mom.”
She paled and whispered nervously “Proof?”
Ben stood up. “I think I’m going to get an early night.” He told her and climbed the stairs to his bedroom.
As she sat alone in the dimly lit room Gemma suddenly felt a little shook up and try as she might she was unable to concentrate on the film. A short while later she retired to bed too.
When she woke the next morning her very first thought had been red panties and she instantly remembered the idea she’d had before falling asleep. If Ben wanted to torture himself by fantasizing that he could control her mind then why shouldn’t she help him? Maybe tease him a little? Why shouldn’t she let him think his plan was working — even if it was only for the day? Maybe if she showed him how stupid he was being he would let it all drop.
She eventually found the panties she had in mind at the bottom of her underwear drawer. They were tight and frilly in a scorching red and as she fingered their delicate lace she tried to remember when and where she’d bought them. No matter she decided and eagerly slipped them on. They were a snug fit and she felt sexy as she admired herself standing topless in the mirror. Her breasts were full and pert and, she suddenly realized, her nipples were stiff with excitement.
Wow, it had been a while since she’d felt like this!
She slipped into a plain white shirt and tied a few of the buttons. It was only short and barely covered the tops of her thighs. But was just low enough to cover her panties. Until she sat down at least. Without a bra her breasts strained against the inside of the shirt and opened it up a little at the front. She was showing a hell of a lot of cleavage but it would be worth it to see his face. He had always liked her breasts, even as an infant. She remembered how eagerly he would latch onto her nipples when he was breast-fed. How she would sing to him as she nursed him to sleep in his cock —
“Cot.” She corrected herself. “I mean cot.”
She paused and looked again in the mirror. She could probably do with some make-up, but still, the ruffled just-got-out-of-bed look was just as sexy. She took a deep breath then released it slowly. Man she felt hot.
Ben was downstairs pottering about the kitchen again. He was sat beside the sink eating cereal out of a bowl when his mom came down. His eyes immediately widened when he saw what she was wearing but he recovered quickly.
“Oh hi mom. Would you like some coffee?” He turned away from her and flicked the kettle.
“Thanks sunshine.” She beamed, she had registered the brief moment of shock on his face and was delighted that her efforts hadn’t been in vain. This was too easy. She slipped into the chair and crossed her legs beneath the table. Her thighs curved over one another and were tanned and soft and inviting.
“Not getting dressed this morning mom?” He cocked an eyebrow at her.
“No.” She leaned back in her chair sultrily and crooned, “I don’t know what’s the matter with me but I just didn’t feel like it today.” She pulled her hands behind her head as she stretched and her tits pushed out obscenely. “You don’t mind do you?”
Too obvious? She bit her lip and settled down.
“Yeah. Whatever.” He turned away casually and began pouring their drinks. “I was thinking of going to the cinema this afternoon anyway.”
“That’s nice honey. What were you planning on seeing?”
He shrugged and handed her a mug of coffee. “Nothing in particular. I just thought you wouldn’t want me hanging around under your feet all day.”
“Silly.” She said. “You wouldn’t be under my feet. I like having a big strong man around the house.” She took a sip of her coffee and grimaced. “Urrgh! Too strong!” She got up and retrieved the milk from the fridge, then turned and kissed her son. He was taller than her so she had to stand on tiptoes. She gave him a quick peck under his jaw. “Thanks for the drink but I need something a little creamier.”
“You’re welcome.”
When she returned to the kitchen table, instead of sitting straight down, she pulled her chair out and then sat on it backwards. Her legs spread around its frame and her shirt lifted up above her panties. “So you don’t want to stay home with me then?” She asked. “I don’t know, we could rent a video or something. What do you think?” She smiled a little as she saw his gaze dart between her legs. She knew her underwear was visible between the struts of the chair and she realized that if he looked hard enough he was sure to spot the faintest of camel-toes. She rested her hands on her knees and then dragged them back, her thumbs trailing along the inside of her thighs, purposefully capturing his attention.
“What do you think Ben?” She asked again.
“Y-yeah. That would be nice.” He looked a little flustered but he was nodding. His eyes never left her crotch.
“Perfect.” She purred and her smile was all pearly whites.
A little later, whilst Ben was at the video-store Gemma tried to distract herself by cleaning the house. She couldn’t believe she’d acted like that in front of her own son. So flirtatious. So brazen. What must he be thinking?
She knew what he had been thinking. She had seen the bulge along his inner thigh. She knew exactly what he’d been thinking. But that was all part of the plan right? To fool him into thinking he’d brainwashed her, and then show him exactly how stupid, how delusional, that notion was? Boy was he in for a shock. He wouldn’t-
She suddenly stopped and squirmed, rubbing her thighs together. God her pussy felt sticky! Her panties clung deliciously tight and pulled against her clit as she moved. Her finger crept down and swiped across her crotch and she moaned quietly.
“C’mon Gemma.” She admonished herself. “You’re not supposed to be getting off on this. Behave.”
She picked up the remote and flicked on the TV. MTV was playing one of her favorite songs so she flopped idly onto the sofa and began to sing along. For the next hour she channel-hopped. She caught the end of a thriller where the main character was climbing into her car, unaware the killer was hiding in the trunk.
“Nooo.” She said to no one. “The spunk silly! You need to check out the spunk!”
She paused and looked around. Of course there was no one to hear. Her ears burned regardless and she stifled a nervous giggle.
“Trunk.” She spoke firmly and clearly. “Trunk.”
What is wrong with me? Get a grip girl, your head is turned all around.
Of course it is, she argued, I saw my son give my neighbor and her daughter a cum-bath. Of course my head’s turned around. Its not everyday you see your son blow a juicy load.
She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. There, that’s better. Now where did I put that remote cum-trol?
She clenched her fingers and toes and her whole frame shook with frustration.
“CON-trol.”
Grrrr!
Later that afternoon she lay on her back on the sofa with her legs stretched across her son’s lap. He had rented an action film but she was more concerned with the sour cream dip he’d bought.
As she watched Bruce Willis shoot yet another bad guy — yawn! — she dipped a breadstick into the cream — yummy! – and brought it to her mouth. Her tongue idly flicked at the tip, before closing her teeth around it with a crunch. She watched with delight as her son’s eyes darted to look at her. He shifted about uncomfortably and she stifled a grin.
This is what you want right? A sexy brainwashed mom? She bent her leg at the knee and pushed down on his thigh with a bare foot. She felt a bulge in his trousers twitch beneath her toes.
Jackpot.
“Sit still.” She moaned. “You’re so fidgety.”
She clenched her toes and they grazed lightly across his swollen shaft. He flinched.
“S-sorry mom.”
She tutted at him and shook her head. Then she fed another dollop of sour cream into her mouth. You think you’re such a great mind reader Benny-boy? Well your old mom can read minds too. I know exactly what you’re thinking. You’re thinking you’d like to dip your big old cock into the sour dip and then have me lick it off aren’t you? Your own mom. Well it’s not going to happen you little pervert. Can you read that? It’s not going to happen.
A dollop of cream dropped onto the swell of her breast. It was cold and she jumped. She flicked a finger across it and sucked it clean. She looked up and he was grinning at her.
“What?” She asked.
“You’re getting cream all over you.”
She smiled back at him sweetly.
Pervert.
Okay Gemma, she told herself. Okay. Just settle down there. It’s just a game right? Just a game to teach him a lesson. No need to start getting irritated at the poor horny pup. After all you’re doing this for his own good right?
Yes she replied. It’s for him, not for me.
Her panties were sopping.
They sat in silence for most of the film though Gemma barely caught two minutes of it, so caught up was she in her own head. When it was done she got up, pecked him on the cheek and told him she was going to bed.
Alone in her room she quietly scolded herself. She was supposed to make a fool of him. That was the plan right? Show him that he wasn’t able to control peoples’ minds. What was the point of all that teasing if she didn’t pull the rug from under his feet at the end?
But he hadn’t made a move had he? Lord knows she’d given him enough opportunities. A whole days worth.
She had to peel her panties off her crotch before getting into bed. Hell, I feel horny, she thought. And then she fell asleep.
She called in sick on Monday morning though the only part of her body burning with fever was between her legs. She tossed and turned in bed for a few hours trying to fight her aching sex.
It’s just the excitement of dressing sexy yesterday, she told herself. It’s been too long since you indulged that’s all. After all, when was the last time you enjoyed a good fuck? Her mind drew a blank.
Exactly.
“It’s a wonder I don’t have cobwebs.” She whispered. I’m only thirty-six, I’m too young for cobwebs. Now that slut Sarah Matthews, she should have cobwebs. I reckon she would too if Ben hadn’t fucked her. She probably hasn’t had a decent orgasm in years; she should thank my Benny for taking care of her.
Gemma spread her legs and slowly began stroking her pussy as she contemplated this, though it was a subconscious act and she was barely aware of it.
“I wonder if she begged too?” she murmured.
Begged TOO? She held onto the tail end of that thought and examined it with a puzzled expression on her face. What do you mean by that? she asked herself. Who else is going to beg?
“I mean… I mean…” she whispered anxiously.
A whole load of juice leaked onto her hand and her fingers became slippery. She moaned and worked one, then two fingers inside.
“Mmm, I mean Ashley of course.” She blurted this out defensively. “Yes. Ashley Matthews. She was there too.”
An image flashed across her consciousness. Two women — mother and daughter — on their knees with their heads tilted back and their mouths open like two baby chicks being fed. Rich nutritious spunk erupting violently from her son’s cock.
Her pelvis bucked and she added a third finger. Her slick pussy took it hungrily and without complaint.
“Oh god!” She protested at the images assaulting her and squeezed her eyes shut. “Why am I thinking about this? Go away!”
Suddenly there was blackness and she was relieved. Then came an absent careless thought. She broke out in goose bumps and her fingers paused in their ministrations.
What if it’s him? Controlling my mind? What if it’s true?
“No, surely not-” She began.
But he looked so confident didn’t he?
“Yes but-”
And here you are masturbating like a teenager.
“It’s not possible.” She stated. “It’s just not possible.”
She chewed her bottom lip nervously. But he did look confident didn’t he?
Sat there on the sofa.
With his juicy cock.
“Oh god!” She clapped her hands over her face. Fuck I’m going crazy! She rolled onto her side and pushed her head into the pillow. When she removed her hands again she looked a little calmer. She took a few slow deep breaths and tried to manage her thoughts.
I’m just horny that’s all. I’m doing all this to myself. My son is not controlling my mind. My son is NOT controlling my mind. She twirled a lock of hair around her fingertip and stared at the ceiling uncertainly.
“Fuck I’ve got to get that letter!”
Things didn’t quite go to plan. She took a shower but when she emerged from her room five minutes later she was still naked. She wasn’t concerned that her son might see her because she’d heard him go out earlier that morning.
But she couldn’t find anything to wear. And it was bad, real bad. She couldn’t even find any underwear. She rummaged around her clothes drawer and threw set after set of panties, knickers and thongs onto the floor. They were all very nice, but they weren’t red. It had to be red panties or nothing at all. She didn’t know why but that’s just the way it was. There was a pair of cotton whites with red flowers on them but she only managed to get them on as far as her knees and no farther.
She looked at yesterday’s yummy red pair lying beside her bed. They were stained with her juices and needed urgent washing. She reluctantly dumped them in the hamper and then, with no other option, forgot the underwear and slipped into a short black skirt. It wasn’t red but had a cute pink trim along its hemline. Which was short. The skirt had a slit up the side and revealed quite a lot of thigh. And it was tight and hugged her ass.
“At least I won’t have a panty line.” She tittered and buttoned her small black shirt. She appraised herself in the mirror and then added some pink gloss to her lips. She smiled at her reflection but something wasn’t right. After spending another fifteen minutes brushing her hair she eventually decided on a simple ponytail. All the time she continually scolded herself.
“C’mon, c’mon stop fannying around, you’ve got to get that letter.”
When her hair was done she breathed a sigh of relief, slipped into some shoes and walked quickly out of her room.
Two minutes later she came running back in, pinned some red hoops to her ears, slipped into some red heels and then walked out again.
In the city she was gathering stares like some people collected stamps. Though she was in a hurry it had been a while since she’d worn heels and they were forcing her into a slow careful slut-strut. Her hips rolled and her ass shimmied as she walked down the high street.
Normally the stares would have irritated her but today she didn’t seem to mind, they just seemed to set her body on fire. She could feel her nipples, rock hard little nubbins grazing against the inside of her shirt. And her pussy tingled with every cool breeze. With each passing moment she regretted more and more that she hadn’t finished masturbating earlier. Her legs felt awful unsteady.
As she walked past a shop window she paused and looked at her watch. It was only 1pm. She had another four hours before the post office shut. Plenty of time. She smiled up at the mannequin with the red garter belt and then walked inside the store.
Two hours later she left carrying three large shopping bags stuffed with stockings and garters; push-up bra’s, demi-bra’s and panties. Lots and lots of red panties. But she still wasn’t satisfied. As she had tried on the various items she had become increasingly distracted by her reflection. More specifically her hair. It just wasn’t right.
Ten minutes after leaving the clothing store she was sat in a salon. When Jacque, her usual stylist heard her request he just stood behind her in stunned silence.
“Ar-are you sure?” he stammered.
“Yes.”
“Its just that normally you’re so conservative and-”
“Oh please Jacque. Just do it for me. I’ve got places to go.”
“But the way you’re dressed. You’ll look like… like…” he protested.
“I know what I’ll look like.” She squirmed about in the chair. Her pussy was soaking. “Just do me!”
Ninety-minutes later she admired herself in the mirror.
“See?” she told her hairdresser. “I told you it would look good.” She rummaged around in one of her shopping bags and retrieved two red ribbons. “Will you put these in for me now?”
When she emerged from the salon her hair was in pigtails with little red bows. She looked like a hot little porn star and she’d never been happier.
Unfortunately she only had fifteen minutes until the post-office closed and she was going to be late.
John had worked as a mail clerk for fifty years. Man and boy. He’d seen plenty of things but never anything like the hot piece of tail that swayed in at closing time.
“But you don’t understand.” She was telling him. “I have to have that letter otherwise I won’t be able to stop him.”
“Stop who?”
“Benny of course. He said I was going to kneel and — and I’m afraid he might be right.” She was babbling at him and not making an awful lot of sense. “Mister, I don’t want to kneel-”
“Then don’t. Look lady I don’t see what this has got to do with a letter. Just wait for it to be delivered. It’ll get there tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” she exclaimed. “But-but-but you can’t! It’s not fair.”
“Life isn’t fair sweetheart, and neither is the postal service.”
Gemma took a deep breath in and then exhaled. She leaned forward across the counter, letting her cleavage spill forward out of her shirt. She looked up at the mail clerk and spoke slowly as though he were a simpleton.
“Look. You know he can’t read minds and I know he can’t read minds. But look at the state of me… Does it look like I can be trusted with a cock?”
As a matter of fact he thought she could be more than trusted with a cock. She looked like she knew exactly what to do with it. He said nothing though, just raised his eyebrows and smiled while she continued.
“Look at me.” she was saying. I’m out of control.” As she said this she swung her bags in the air and piles of sexy underwear tumbled out. “Oh crumbs!” she said and sunk to her hands and knees.
John peered over the counter and watched happily as she scrambled around retrieving her clothes. To his delight each time her ass shimmied her skirt worked its way farther and farther up her thighs. Eventually it slipped up around her hips to reveal her snatch, which was tight and smooth and glistening. If she noticed she didn’t seem to care.
It was too much for the poor mail clerk to bear and as he eased himself over the counter he was already negotiating.
“Okay sweet cheeks the letter’s all yours. But first you’re gonna help old John out okay.”
Gemma looked back at him and her eyes widened as he fished his cock out of his pants. She groaned.
“Oh God! Yes! Whatever it takes. Please just fuck me. I-I really need it.”
And as the words left her lips she realized that she was telling the truth. She did need it. She really did. It had been a long and frustrating day. As the old man pushed his gnarly cock inside of her she gave a grateful little moan and came almost immediately. For John, who had never fucked a girl this hot when he was half his age, it was too much, and as she spasmed and convulsed around him he blew a hot load inside her.
As she drove home that evening she felt calmer. Like a weight had been lifted. Or like all the tension had been released. It had been five years since she’d last been fucked. Lord knows why, she knew she could get it every night if she wanted. There were plenty of eager men, and they could offer a whole lot more than her afternoon post office affair. But brief as it was, her orgasm had been tremendous and in her post-coital bliss she now felt like she could think clearly again. She blushed with disbelief at her behavior. I’m such a slut, she thought.
But she felt a curious sense of peace regardless. She realized she had repressed her sexuality for far too long. That was all. That was why she’d acted so confused. That was why she hadn’t been able to think straight. Her son wasn’t controlling her mind. It was preposterous to think that such a thing was possible. She kicked herself for even entertaining such a notion.
Maybe that’s what had happened to their neighbor Sarah Matthews. Maybe Ben had merely planted the idea in her head and she’d let it run away with her and the next thing she knew she was on her knees beside her daughter catching spunk.
Gemma liked to think that she was a little more strong willed than that. That she wouldn’t be so easily manipulated by subliminal suggestions. Okay, so she had fucked the post office clerk. But no one had made her do it. No one could make her do anything. She was in complete control.
She looked over at the letter sat on the passenger seat and smiled with relief anyway. Now that it was in her possession she felt a whole lot easier. Ben sure was in for a disappointment.
She slowed her car as she approached a red — yum! — light.
Yum rhymes with cum she thought absently. And they both rhyme with son. Isn’t that funny?
When she got home her first instinct was to tear open the envelope and read its contents. But then she thought about Ben and how smug he’d looked when he told her that after he’d read her the letter she was going to … well, when he’d said he would control her. But now the tables could be turned right? By her reading the letter to him she could deprive him of his opportunity. Deny him his control of the situation.
Yes, a moment like this wasn’t to be wasted.
She could hear him upstairs in the bath and calmly but reluctantly put the envelope to one side. This was going to be worth the wait.
As she sat in the kitchen moments later, she sipped at a cup of coffee and thought about how crazy she’d been acting. She shook her head in exasperation at her own foolishness. Still, it hadn’t exactly been a normal week had it? Most moms wouldn’t be too surprised to inadvertently catch their son’s masturbating, but to catch him as he’s ejaculating onto two women? No it hadn’t exactly been a normal week.
She supposed that some of her behavior could be explained as a reaction to the obvious realization that her son was now a man. And she’d spent so much time thinking of herself as a mom, that maybe she’d stopped thinking of herself as a woman.
Maybe that’s what this is? She thought. Maybe that’s why Ben said the things he said? Maybe he was trying to defend his masculinity by trying to assert his control over me as a woman.
That still didn’t excuse him though: he had behaved like a pig. And the more she thought about this the more her emotions started to simmer and boil over. He’d behaved like an obnoxious pig and somehow she’d let him defuse the situation and deprive her of her right to adequately punish him. She’d relinquished her control of the situation so easily!
Too easily!
She decided then and there that she’d waited long enough. She was still his mom and it was time for her son to learn his place!
When she burst into the bathroom seconds later she was carrying the letter in her hand and her blood was roaring in her ears. To her amazement Ben barely flinched.
“Oh hi mom. Come to wash my back?”
She wanted to knock his smug grin right off his face and when she smiled back at him it was with the realization that now she knew how to do it.
“Not at all Ben. Not at all.” She waved the letter in the air. “I just wanted to show you what I picked up from the post office today.”
Her son frowned back at her and she felt a little thrill of delight tingle in her stomach.
“That’s not addressed to you mom.”
She grinned triumphantly. “Well I’m going to open it anyway.”
“Seriously mom, I don’t think you should be reading that.”
Gemma kneeled down beside the bathtub and sneered at him. She tore at the seam of the envelope with a long fingernail. “Well I’m afraid that’s too bad honey. Because I’m going to read it and you’re going to listen. Weren’t expecting that were you?”
“Mom.” He warned but it was too late. He watched as his mother tore open the envelope and pulled out a letter.
“Dear Sarah.” She read.
Sarah?
Dear Sarah, your father and I just thought we would drop you a quick letter whilst we were away…
“This isn’t for me.” She said and was immediately deflated. She picked up the envelope and looked at the address. It was addressed to her neighbor. “This is the wrong letter.” She protested stupidly.
“That’s what I tried to tell you.” Ben said.
“But…but…”
But that means the real letter was still out there didn’t it. Her letter. THE letter. It was still out there and on its way. The countdown had begun.
“No.” she whispered meekly. “No, you can’t. You can’t.”
“Can’t what mom?” he looked at her, all innocent and sweet while she sat back on her heels. Dazed.
“It’s not fair.” She murmured.
“Hey.” Ben soothed. “Just relax will you.” He handed her some soap and turned around. “Look just relax and wash my back will you.”
She looked down at the soap in a stupor and then began lathering up her hands. As she stroked in circles across his skin she felt the contours of his shoulder blades and the smoothness of muscle. She felt like she was in a dream. She didn’t know what to think, didn’t know what to say, and didn’t know what to do.
So she washed him. Just like he asked. She worked his shoulders and his arms. His neck and his back. And he talked the entire time. Spurring her, encouraging her. And she was in a dream. She was an automaton and she was in a dream.
When he stood and turned she stayed kneeling and he towered above her.
“And now this.” He was saying and he lazily waved his cock in her face. It was full and hard. She reached up and ran her hand along his inner thigh. She looked at his dick thoughtfully.
He smiled down at her and patted the top of her head encouragingly with a wet hand.
“Better make sure you get it nice and clean mom. After all, the mail arrives tomorrow.”
“Nooo.” She said to no one. “The spunk silly! You need to check out the spunk!”
She paused and looked around. Of course there was no one to hear. Her ears burned regardless and she stifled a nervous giggle.
“Trunk.” She spoke firmly and clearly. “Trunk.”
What is wrong with me? Get a grip girl, your head is turned all around.
Of course it is, she argued, I saw my son give my neighbor and her daughter a cum-bath. Of course my head’s turned around. Its not everyday you see your son blow a juicy load.
She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. There, that’s better. Now where did I put that remote cum-trol?
She clenched her fingers and toes and her whole frame shook with frustration.
“CON-trol.”
Grrrr!
Later that afternoon she lay on her back on the sofa with her legs stretched across her son’s lap. He had rented an action film but she was more concerned with the sour cream dip he’d bought.
As she watched Bruce Willis shoot yet another bad guy — yawn! — she dipped a breadstick into the cream — yummy! – and brought it to her mouth. Her tongue idly flicked at the tip, before closing her teeth around it with a crunch. She watched with delight as her son’s eyes darted to look at her. He shifted about uncomfortably and she stifled a grin.
This is what you want right? A sexy brainwashed mom? She bent her leg at the knee and pushed down on his thigh with a bare foot. She felt a bulge in his trousers twitch beneath her toes.
Jackpot.
“Sit still.” She moaned. “You’re so fidgety.”
She clenched her toes and they grazed lightly across his swollen shaft. He flinched.
“S-sorry mom.”
She tutted at him and shook her head. Then she fed another dollop of sour cream into her mouth. You think you’re such a great mind reader Benny-boy? Well your old mom can read minds too. I know exactly what you’re thinking. You’re thinking you’d like to dip your big old cock into the sour dip and then have me lick it off aren’t you? Your own mom. Well it’s not going to happen you little pervert. Can you read that? It’s not going to happen.
A dollop of cream dropped onto the swell of her breast. It was cold and she jumped. She flicked a finger across it and sucked it clean. She looked up and he was grinning at her.
“What?” She asked.
“You’re getting cream all over you.”
She smiled back at him sweetly.
Pervert.
Okay Gemma, she told herself. Okay. Just settle down there. It’s just a game right? Just a game to teach him a lesson. No need to start getting irritated at the poor horny pup. After all you’re doing this for his own good right?
Yes she replied. It’s for him, not for me.
Her panties were sopping.
They sat in silence for most of the film though Gemma barely caught two minutes of it, so caught up was she in her own head. When it was done she got up, pecked him on the cheek and told him she was going to bed.
Alone in her room she quietly scolded herself. She was supposed to make a fool of him. That was the plan right? Show him that he wasn’t able to control peoples’ minds. What was the point of all that teasing if she didn’t pull the rug from under his feet at the end?
But he hadn’t made a move had he? Lord knows she’d given him enough opportunities. A whole days worth.
She had to peel her panties off her crotch before getting into bed. Hell, I feel horny, she thought. And then she fell asleep.
She called in sick on Monday morning though the only part of her body burning with fever was between her legs. She tossed and turned in bed for a few hours trying to fight her aching sex.
It’s just the excitement of dressing sexy yesterday, she told herself. It’s been too long since you indulged that’s all. After all, when was the last time you enjoyed a good fuck? Her mind drew a blank.
Exactly.
“It’s a wonder I don’t have cobwebs.” She whispered. I’m only thirty-six, I’m too young for cobwebs. Now that slut Sarah Matthews, she should have cobwebs. I reckon she would too if Ben hadn’t fucked her. She probably hasn’t had a decent orgasm in years; she should thank my Benny for taking care of her.
Gemma spread her legs and slowly began stroking her pussy as she contemplated this, though it was a subconscious act and she was barely aware of it.
“I wonder if she begged too?” she murmured.
Begged TOO? She held onto the tail end of that thought and examined it with a puzzled expression on her face. What do you mean by that? she asked herself. Who else is going to beg?
“I mean… I mean…” she whispered anxiously.
A whole load of juice leaked onto her hand and her fingers became slippery. She moaned and worked one, then two fingers inside.
“Mmm, I mean Ashley of course.” She blurted this out defensively. “Yes. Ashley Matthews. She was there too.”
An image flashed across her consciousness. Two women — mother and daughter — on their knees with their heads tilted back and their mouths open like two baby chicks being fed. Rich nutritious spunk erupting violently from her son’s cock.
Her pelvis bucked and she added a third finger. Her slick pussy took it hungrily and without complaint.
“Oh god!” She protested at the images assaulting her and squeezed her eyes shut. “Why am I thinking about this? Go away!”
Suddenly there was blackness and she was relieved. Then came an absent careless thought. She broke out in goose bumps and her fingers paused in their ministrations.
What if it’s him? Controlling my mind? What if it’s true?
“No, surely not-” She began.
But he looked so confident didn’t he?
“Yes but-”
And here you are masturbating like a teenager.
“It’s not possible.” She stated. “It’s just not possible.”
She chewed her bottom lip nervously. But he did look confident didn’t he?
Sat there on the sofa.
With his juicy cock.
“Oh god!” She clapped her hands over her face. Fuck I’m going crazy! She rolled onto her side and pushed her head into the pillow. When she removed her hands again she looked a little calmer. She took a few slow deep breaths and tried to manage her thoughts.
I’m just horny that’s all. I’m doing all this to myself. My son is not controlling my mind. My son is NOT controlling my mind. She twirled a lock of hair around her fingertip and stared at the ceiling uncertainly.
“Fuck I’ve got to get that letter!”
Things didn’t quite go to plan. She took a shower but when she emerged from her room five minutes later she was still naked. She wasn’t concerned that her son might see her because she’d heard him go out earlier that morning.
But she couldn’t find anything to wear. And it was bad, real bad. She couldn’t even find any underwear. She rummaged around her clothes drawer and threw set after set of panties, knickers and thongs onto the floor. They were all very nice, but they weren’t red. It had to be red panties or nothing at all. She didn’t know why but that’s just the way it was. There was a pair of cotton whites with red flowers on them but she only managed to get them on as far as her knees and no farther.
She looked at yesterday’s yummy red pair lying beside her bed. They were stained with her juices and needed urgent washing. She reluctantly dumped them in the hamper and then, with no other option, forgot the underwear and slipped into a short black skirt. It wasn’t red but had a cute pink trim along its hemline. Which was short. The skirt had a slit up the side and revealed quite a lot of thigh. And it was tight and hugged her ass.
“At least I won’t have a panty line.” She tittered and buttoned her small black shirt. She appraised herself in the mirror and then added some pink gloss to her lips. She smiled at her reflection but something wasn’t right. After spending another fifteen minutes brushing her hair she eventually decided on a simple ponytail. All the time she continually scolded herself.
“C’mon, c’mon stop fannying around, you’ve got to get that letter.”
When her hair was done she breathed a sigh of relief, slipped into some shoes and walked quickly out of her room.
Two minutes later she came running back in, pinned some red hoops to her ears, slipped into some red heels and then walked out again.
In the city she was gathering stares like some people collected stamps. Though she was in a hurry it had been a while since she’d worn heels and they were forcing her into a slow careful slut-strut. Her hips rolled and her ass shimmied as she walked down the high street.
Normally the stares would have irritated her but today she didn’t seem to mind, they just seemed to set her body on fire. She could feel her nipples, rock hard little nubbins grazing against the inside of her shirt. And her pussy tingled with every cool breeze. With each passing moment she regretted more and more that she hadn’t finished masturbating earlier. Her legs felt awful unsteady.
As she walked past a shop window she paused and looked at her watch. It was only 1pm. She had another four hours before the post office shut. Plenty of time. She smiled up at the mannequin with the red garter belt and then walked inside the store.
Two hours later she left carrying three large shopping bags stuffed with stockings and garters; push-up bra’s, demi-bra’s and panties. Lots and lots of red panties. But she still wasn’t satisfied. As she had tried on the various items she had become increasingly distracted by her reflection. More specifically her hair. It just wasn’t right.
Ten minutes after leaving the clothing store she was sat in a salon. When Jacque, her usual stylist heard her request he just stood behind her in stunned silence.
“Ar-are you sure?” he stammered.
“Yes.”
“Its just that normally you’re so conservative and-”
“Oh please Jacque. Just do it for me. I’ve got places to go.”
“But the way you’re dressed. You’ll look like… like…” he protested.
“I know what I’ll look like.” She squirmed about in the chair. Her pussy was soaking. “Just do me!”
Ninety-minutes later she admired herself in the mirror.
“See?” she told her hairdresser. “I told you it would look good.” She rummaged around in one of her shopping bags and retrieved two red ribbons. “Will you put these in for me now?”
When she emerged from the salon her hair was in pigtails with little red bows. She looked like a hot little porn star and she’d never been happier.
Unfortunately she only had fifteen minutes until the post-office closed and she was going to be late.
John had worked as a mail clerk for fifty years. Man and boy. He’d seen plenty of things but never anything like the hot piece of tail that swayed in at closing time.
“But you don’t understand.” She was telling him. “I have to have that letter otherwise I won’t be able to stop him.”
“Stop who?”
“Benny of course. He said I was going to kneel and — and I’m afraid he might be right.” She was babbling at him and not making an awful lot of sense. “Mister, I don’t want to kneel-”
“Then don’t. Look lady I don’t see what this has got to do with a letter. Just wait for it to be delivered. It’ll get there tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” she exclaimed. “But-but-but you can’t! It’s not fair.”
“Life isn’t fair sweetheart, and neither is the postal service.”
Gemma took a deep breath in and then exhaled. She leaned forward across the counter, letting her cleavage spill forward out of her shirt. She looked up at the mail clerk and spoke slowly as though he were a simpleton.
“Look. You know he can’t read minds and I know he can’t read minds. But look at the state of me… Does it look like I can be trusted with a cock?”
As a matter of fact he thought she could be more than trusted with a cock. She looked like she knew exactly what to do with it. He said nothing though, just raised his eyebrows and smiled while she continued.
“Look at me.” she was saying. I’m out of control.” As she said this she swung her bags in the air and piles of sexy underwear tumbled out. “Oh crumbs!” she said and sunk to her hands and knees.
John peered over the counter and watched happily as she scrambled around retrieving her clothes. To his delight each time her ass shimmied her skirt worked its way farther and farther up her thighs. Eventually it slipped up around her hips to reveal her snatch, which was tight and smooth and glistening. If she noticed she didn’t seem to care.
It was too much for the poor mail clerk to bear and as he eased himself over the counter he was already negotiating.
“Okay sweet cheeks the letter’s all yours. But first you’re gonna help old John out okay.”
Gemma looked back at him and her eyes widened as he fished his cock out of his pants. She groaned.
“Oh God! Yes! Whatever it takes. Please just fuck me. I-I really need it.”
And as the words left her lips she realized that she was telling the truth. She did need it. She really did. It had been a long and frustrating day. As the old man pushed his gnarly cock inside of her she gave a grateful little moan and came almost immediately. For John, who had never fucked a girl this hot when he was half his age, it was too much, and as she spasmed and convulsed around him he blew a hot load inside her.
As she drove home that evening she felt calmer. Like a weight had been lifted. Or like all the tension had been released. It had been five years since she’d last been fucked. Lord knows why, she knew she could get it every night if she wanted. There were plenty of eager men, and they could offer a whole lot more than her afternoon post office affair. But brief as it was, her orgasm had been tremendous and in her post-coital bliss she now felt like she could think clearly again. She blushed with disbelief at her behavior. I’m such a slut, she thought.
But she felt a curious sense of peace regardless. She realized she had repressed her sexuality for far too long. That was all. That was why she’d acted so confused. That was why she hadn’t been able to think straight. Her son wasn’t controlling her mind. It was preposterous to think that such a thing was possible. She kicked herself for even entertaining such a notion.
Maybe that’s what had happened to their neighbor Sarah Matthews. Maybe Ben had merely planted the idea in her head and she’d let it run away with her and the next thing she knew she was on her knees beside her daughter catching spunk.
Gemma liked to think that she was a little more strong willed than that. That she wouldn’t be so easily manipulated by subliminal suggestions. Okay, so she had fucked the post office clerk. But no one had made her do it. No one could make her do anything. She was in complete control.
She looked over at the letter sat on the passenger seat and smiled with relief anyway. Now that it was in her possession she felt a whole lot easier. Ben sure was in for a disappointment.
She slowed her car as she approached a red — yum! — light.
Yum rhymes with cum she thought absently. And they both rhyme with son. Isn’t that funny?
When she got home her first instinct was to tear open the envelope and read its contents. But then she thought about Ben and how smug he’d looked when he told her that after he’d read her the letter she was going to … well, when he’d said he would control her. But now the tables could be turned right? By her reading the letter to him she could deprive him of his opportunity. Deny him his control of the situation.
Yes, a moment like this wasn’t to be wasted.
She could hear him upstairs in the bath and calmly but reluctantly put the envelope to one side. This was going to be worth the wait.
As she sat in the kitchen moments later, she sipped at a cup of coffee and thought about how crazy she’d been acting. She shook her head in exasperation at her own foolishness. Still, it hadn’t exactly been a normal week had it? Most moms wouldn’t be too surprised to inadvertently catch their son’s masturbating, but to catch him as he’s ejaculating onto two women? No it hadn’t exactly been a normal week.
She supposed that some of her behavior could be explained as a reaction to the obvious realization that her son was now a man. And she’d spent so much time thinking of herself as a mom, that maybe she’d stopped thinking of herself as a woman.
Maybe that’s what this is? She thought. Maybe that’s why Ben said the things he said? Maybe he was trying to defend his masculinity by trying to assert his control over me as a woman.
That still didn’t excuse him though: he had behaved like a pig. And the more she thought about this the more her emotions started to simmer and boil over. He’d behaved like an obnoxious pig and somehow she’d let him defuse the situation and deprive her of her right to adequately punish him. She’d relinquished her control of the situation so easily!
Too easily!
She decided then and there that she’d waited long enough. She was still his mom and it was time for her son to learn his place!
When she burst into the bathroom seconds later she was carrying the letter in her hand and her blood was roaring in her ears. To her amazement Ben barely flinched.
“Oh hi mom. Come to wash my back?”
She wanted to knock his smug grin right off his face and when she smiled back at him it was with the realization that now she knew how to do it.
“Not at all Ben. Not at all.” She waved the letter in the air. “I just wanted to show you what I picked up from the post office today.”
Her son frowned back at her and she felt a little thrill of delight tingle in her stomach.
“That’s not addressed to you mom.”
She grinned triumphantly. “Well I’m going to open it anyway.”
“Seriously mom, I don’t think you should be reading that.”
Gemma kneeled down beside the bathtub and sneered at him. She tore at the seam of the envelope with a long fingernail. “Well I’m afraid that’s too bad honey. Because I’m going to read it and you’re going to listen. Weren’t expecting that were you?”
“Mom.” He warned but it was too late. He watched as his mother tore open the envelope and pulled out a letter.
“Dear Sarah.” She read.
Sarah?
Dear Sarah, your father and I just thought we would drop you a quick letter whilst we were away…
“This isn’t for me.” She said and was immediately deflated. She picked up the envelope and looked at the address. It was addressed to her neighbor. “This is the wrong letter.” She protested stupidly.
“That’s what I tried to tell you.” Ben said.
“But…but…”
But that means the real letter was still out there didn’t it. Her letter. THE letter. It was still out there and on its way. The countdown had begun.
“No.” she whispered meekly. “No, you can’t. You can’t.”
“Can’t what mom?” he looked at her, all innocent and sweet while she sat back on her heels. Dazed.
“It’s not fair.” She murmured.
“Hey.” Ben soothed. “Just relax will you.” He handed her some soap and turned around. “Look just relax and wash my back will you.”
She looked down at the soap in a stupor and then began lathering up her hands. As she stroked in circles across his skin she felt the contours of his shoulder blades and the smoothness of muscle. She felt like she was in a dream. She didn’t know what to think, didn’t know what to say, and didn’t know what to do.
So she washed him. Just like he asked. She worked his shoulders and his arms. His neck and his back. And he talked the entire time. Spurring her, encouraging her. And she was in a dream. She was an automaton and she was in a dream.
When he stood and turned she stayed kneeling and he towered above her.
“And now this.” He was saying and he lazily waved his cock in her face. It was full and hard. She reached up and ran her hand along his inner thigh. She looked at his dick thoughtfully.
He smiled down at her and patted the top of her head encouragingly with a wet hand.
“Better make sure you get it nice and clean mom. After all, the mail arrives tomorrow.”