Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
[©2010 BY CLINTON09; ALL CHARACTERS OVER THE AGE OF 18; NO EVENTS DESCRIBED ARE TRUE]
[Warning: this story is in the ‘incest’ category. As a result, the mother and son in this tale might have a relationship which you might find unsettling. At the end, when they kiss each other goodnight, neither of them has to go to another bedroom. The father already sleeps there.]
It was a pretty silly idea, but not the 1st of his. My father, Mal, was always coming up with a get rich quick scheme, something that would let him avoid actually doing any real work himself. Because of this, he was a 48 year old who still had to look to the general employment page for a job. The only reason we still had a home and anything else was my mother, Sue, who came from a well-to-do family. In fact, it was their home we currently resided in.
If there are holy temples for the get-rich-quick crowd, they are located in New York (Wall Street), Las Vegas, and Hollywood. My father saw a blurb where they would be casting for “Cockfighter”. It was a new movie that was expected to finally link adult, video games, and regular cinema into a hot new fusion medium that would sweep all before it, from TV to iPhone. For this role, they would need several studly actors, with outsized, umm, everything. Because of the advanced financing, the role was guaranteed $500,000. My dad, who got Variety among other papers, saw this and wanted in. He knew he was much too old and too “small” to try out, but he did have a son after all.
I was the only child of the aforementioned Mal and Sue. I had just turned 18. He had told me I would have to leave home by that time, after a couple of months to find a place and a job. I was smart enough to prepare for that; I got into the high school work/study program for kids who had to work during school. I worked in a warehouse handling cargo at the port. It was hard work, especially for someone of my age (I lied about my birthdate.) But, one thing it did do was make me fit as hell. Instead of sitting the day away reading Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, I was moving huge sacks of flour for the United Nations Relief fund, etc.
On weekends, I managed a little time-off from school and that exhausting job. Of course, I then had to clean our small swimming pool and other chores. It was during one of these sessions that he noticed me. Remembering the Variety ‘cattle call’ for actors for Cockfighter and that magical, mystical guaranteed $500,000, he noticed for the 1st time that his only child, Jim (i.e. me) had gotten quite buff working at that longshoreman job. He thought with some fine tuning I could get that role and bring $500,000 ‘home to papa’. He decided to go into action.
I lived in a little added-on bedroom on the other side of the attached garage. After I had just finished the pool and was about to jump into an ice cold shower, I heard a tapping on the glass of my door. For a moment I thought it was a raven, but alas, it was only my father. After letting him in, I sat on my wooden school chair, too sweaty to be comfy on the sofa. He sat on my black leather chair and extolled the virtues of this new movie role.
Father: “Just think; you will be contributing $500,000 to the family, most of which will go towards your college fund and a car. You just might become a Hollywood star; you certainly would be up for a role in any sequel. Plus, it probably wouldn’t hurt your social life…”
Me: “Ok, it sounds good, but what do I have to do to win this role?”
Father: “From the general description in the paper and the website, they need young studs of about your age to prance around in skimpy costumes as if they were fighters on a future earth that was no longer used to ‘real men’. You end up in these ceremonial costumes the atomic war survivors give you, which show off your physique and your ‘gifts’ down below. As a result, the producers insist on actors who will be built like Mr. Universe, but also with ‘units’ of epic proportion. Now, if this sounds ‘doable’ we would have to immediately go to work on changing your physique from good to incredible. About the ‘unit’, I don’t think there is anything we can do, but I will study on it. If you want to start, I will find a training plan on line and have your lazy mom oversee it. As for me, I have too many projects going as it is, any one of which could make us rich.”
Me: “Well, I’m not sure about this; I’m just finishing school as well as working in the port. I will try and find the time before I have to move out.” [He told me the get-out-when-you-turn-18 orders have been rescinded.]
He bought me a weight set and some other things. He gave me a training regimen and had my mother start checking on my progress every day. My mother, Sue, was 39. She was a petite housewife, five foot two, blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes, Hollywood smile, and a tiny hourglass figure, with great legs, slender ankles and lovely smooth feet with the darkest red painted little toes. The one thing that was most striking about her casino oyna was her bust. On a Playmate of the month type (who average five foot ten), her boobs would be mundane. On a petite five foot two soccer mom, her genuine ‘all real, all me’ bra was impressive…and filled to the bursting point. I wasn’t exaggerating on that last point. One morning mom was doing dishes over the sink. When he wasn’t around, mom would often get lazy and just put on bra and panties as she padded around the house in her beautiful demure feet. She was wearing an old bra with a single button in the front. I could tell that thing was ‘about to blow’, you could just hear it straining like material being stretched. Finally, with a noisy pop then crack, that poor button flew off as she burst her bra, the button hitting the kitchen window at terrific force, cracking the glass. Embarrassed, she turned away from me, whipped off that now useless bra, flinging it over her where it landed right on my face. She covered her perfect breasts with her hands and ran out. As for me, my face was covered by one of the big cups of that bra. It had a dairy kind of delicate scent. I looked at the label, assuming it was one of mom’s bras from when she was a girl, but no. The label read, Victoria’s Secret, Supersize, 36D. Well, I had just turned 18 and for the first time, I got hard as a stone…over my own mom.
My parents had a weird relationship. Years ago their sex life basically ended as it became clear to my mom that he was a bit of a failure. As it turned out, his job success (or lack of same) had hindered his bedroom performance. He seldom even achieved the pathetic 3 ½ or 4 inches in size that he had during his best years. It was a terrible shame that my gorgeous mother, with the body of the playmate of the year, was going unappreciated. She stayed with him thinking that when I left home at 18, it would be the proper time to also leave.
I have to admit, my mother’s charms had not gone unnoticed by me. It was probably another incident which sort of twisted me to the point I wasn’t big into dating. One day my old man was off on another trip searching for that magical job that would make him rich. Mom was home, thinking I was at work. However new security measures were being put into place and we were sent home from work. I came into the main house, hearing moaning. I rushed to mom’s room, only to see the door locked. It was an old fashioned door with those huge keyholes. I confess that I did a peeping-tom number on my own mom. There she was, on the bed, nude, man, NUDE! Lord, those perfect breasts, those showgirl legs. She was using one of those electric things in her private area, buzzing away as she moaned. It didn’t occur to me that it meant she was incredibly horny, or that I might want to take advantage of that. She later told me: had I barged in at that exact moment, she would have offered no resistance at all to anything I did…as in anything. Later when she told me that, I almost cried. How I had desired her for so long. How I had carried so much seed. I would have given anything, anything, for the right, the duty, the honor of pumping it into the most treasured spot in the entire world, my mother’s unprotected, fertile womb.
Returning to the central story about my training for the role of ‘Cockfighter’; Here was my mother, who had no ‘unsavory’ interest in her own son, being compelled by her useless husband to oversee my training. Little did he know he was dealing with nitro, putting a very horny mother in close quarters with a hugely hung, musclebound equally horny son. He expected his wife Sue to just calmly train her son as if he were a kindergarten student. While doing that, she would have to keep a journal with measurements and exercise progress.
Mom: “Day one; Jim is embarrassed, as am I, over this crazy idea of his father. Nonetheless, I measured his arms, 12″, and let him measure his own private thing, which was 5 inches. He later admitted that he was too shy to ‘excite’ his unit and that the 5 inches was relaxed…I was thinking, wow, he’s more man than his father, and he wasn’t even hard. I just might like this job he’s making me do.”
Mom: “Day thirty-one; Jim has finished high school and can now work the entire weekend at weights and that other odd training. His father modified some plastic kitchen gloves. Now, it fits over his private parts. With the round weight attached by the unused fingers of that glove, the glove served to put pressure on Jim’s manhood.
When he said that it didn’t work, I noted in my guide that he had to be hard for it to work. When Jimmy protested that he couldn’t do his ‘thing’ with me there, I told him to relax and turn around.
I closed my eyes and reached around, feeling for it for the first time. I found it and gave it a few tugs; he moaned in pleasure, murmuring ‘oh mom, oh mommy, yes…’
I immediately stopped at that point, telling him that this was something we both had to do and not ‘dating night’.
He apologized slot oyna to me and kept quiet thereafter. I felt him growing and growing and GROWING. When it was clear that he was ‘up’, I asked him to give me a measurement for my book.
When he read off eight inches, I noted that before realizing how much manhood I had just held. I wanted to be a good mom and not do anything wrong with him, but it had been YEARS…I was so fucking horny…! I was also so conflicted: a part of me wanted to push him down and leap on board, relieving years and years of sexual frustration. Unfortunately, another part of me reminded me that I was a mother and did not want to ‘warp’ my son. I left him that day, kissing him on the cheek for his hard work.”
Mom: “Day Sixty-one: Jim pounded away at the weights as I watched, his fabulous physique just sweaty enough to look like one of those hunky studs in Mr. Olympia or some other contest. The sweat dripping off his body highlighted those glorious muscles. My baby today measured 20 inches at the bicep and nine inches in the manhood department. He now insists that he will only keep training if I do the measurements, including measuring that heavenly erect cock of his. I am still a good mother and have only stroked and caressed that gorgeous steel hard symbol of virility because his tiny-equipped father ordered me to. I do confess to the diary that I was not ordered to measure his scrotum, but his testes become huge when I stroke his manhood. His balls get so swollen. With my gold bracelet jangling, I cupped those wonderful globes, the size of medium grapefruit, and I marveled at the volume of sperm that must be there. I giggled to myself wondering how quickly I would become pregnant if that huge reservoir of his potent seed were to be inserted into me by that stud using the nine inch long ‘applicator’ that Nature provided him. Mother or no, I was so very horny. You can imagine the strain it has put on my self-control to have to massage and excite a young well-hung stud’s enormous rod. He stands before me, his erect cock above his navel, flexing those mountainous biceps. In the most insane situation in history, I, his mother, am compelled to measure his bulging biceps and the length of that sizzling manhood. Now, any other woman, and I mean ANY other woman, would immediately push him down and climb on board that huge rod. Just the thought of that rough, uncut, big headed cock, scraping and tingling the oh-so-sensitive tissues of my inner walls has driven me insane on more than one day.”
Mom: “Day Ninety-one: Jimmy showed me how manly he was. He had a borrowed shirt from his father. He put it on but then he flexed his muscles and the shirt ripped along the seams, his bulging biceps shredding the sleeves to ribbons. He stood before me in this tattered shirt. He pulled down his string belt athletic pants. He stood me up as I stared, totally mesmerized. I was just wearing a simple green houserobe and underneath that, NOTHING. He could easily have unbuttoned the four big white buttons. No, he made a point of ripping off the buttons, one by one. He tore the robe off me. With his superstrength, it was incredibly easy for him to push me to my knees, which he did. He ordered me to close eyes and open mouth. I had to obey him, he was now my master. As I expected, the huge uncut head of his cock was stuffed into my mouth. To be honest, I had never ‘given head’ I think is the slang word. But, it didn’t take much talent to do this. I began to honor him in that way. He was as pent-up with built-up passion as I was, so it didn’t take him long to get close. That wonderful tool of his expanded on its short road to ecstasy. Just then, he lifted me like a rag doll and gently threw me onto his bed. I quickly said, ‘now see here, Jimmy, it’s one thing to play around a little, but I still am your mother. I am also a married woman, one who can’t fool around unless you have a condom big enough for that thing of yours. My cycle peaks today. So unless you want to have a sexy mommy in the house, her belly swollen with your baby, her breasts engorged with mother’s milk, you had better stop’.
Dear diary, those were not the best chosen words to stop an incredibly well-hung, musclebound, son with a roaring ten inch hard-on. I tried again, but it only got worse. ‘Jimmy, stop, if you put that huge cock inside your mommy, that thing might just fill up my womb with all of your baby-making sperm. Is THAT what you want…to fuck your mommy, to slide that big, hard cock of yours into your OWN MOTHER! What would your father say if he saw you plunging that oversized tool of yours, your swollen balls bouncing, as you continue to pound away at your sweet, innocent, mommy? What protection would I have, either? I mean, here you would have that enormous babymaker lodged deep inside of me. That cute tiny slit on your cockhead would be the size of a thumb, your balls would compress, and then you’d get this shudder, shudder, shudder, as that cock of yours would shoot your potent seed. canlı casino siteleri With a warm splash, that liquid love would begin to fill up my womb. Is that what you really want? My unprotected womb, just waiting for fertilization to occur. Somewhere within me, my ovum would be floating, waiting for baby-making sperm. Do you really want YOUR sperm to alight on that egg, and then to attach itself to my walls, making me pregnant. YOUR OWN MOM, PREGNANT BY HER OWN SON. Is THAT what you want???’
Well, diary, that didn’t exactly stop him. When I say, ‘didn’t exactly stop him’, I should have said, ‘drove him absolutely insane!’ He threw me onto the bed with my robe torn off and proceeded to enter me, roughly. I was so hot, so horny, with so many months of heat built-up, that I just prepared myself for the ride of the century. I forgot one thing: this superheated stud was so incredibly horny that he couldn’t last long; sure enough, he went in and out four times and then filled me up to overflowing. His cock kept shooting and shooting. I was overflowing before he was half-finished. He kissed me really hard and rough, and then fell over on the bed, totally spent. When I got up, I noticed his cock was spent too, covered in our collected excitement. When I lovingly gave him a gentle pat on his thigh, I was amazed to see that magical tool of his lurch, rise, fall, lurch, and finally spring to glorious ten inch erection again. Curious, with my left hand jangling with my gold charm bracelet and lady Rolex, I cupped his flaccid sack. At least he was still human down there…he had just pumped more seed into me than his impotent father had in our entire lives’ together. There was no way that these testes would be of any use for another few days.
I let them flop back to where they were. I nuzzled up to my handsome son, put my jewelry-laden left hand on his manhood, and keyholed that thing. I cooed, ‘that was fantastic, though next time, ask me what I wanted. It just might be the same thing as you. Now, in a couple of days, when you are back in loving order, we can do this again, but as a joint project. ‘I let go of his thing and leaned forward to kiss him. I went back to pick up his tool again just to play around as I had been doing. Not looking down there, I reached too low and felt his bull-sized sack instead. I felt these two globes, about the size, weight, and firmness as two navel oranges. Puzzled, I got up on my elbow and looked. To my amazement, his testes were once again swollen with the very seed of life. I mean, it couldn’t be…could it? I thought, ‘uh, oh! What now?’ I told him, ‘now don’t get any ideas, Jimmy, just because those nuts of yours are the size of bowling balls. I wasn’t kidding before; you are playing with fire. I am incredibly fertile at this moment, so if you seed me by pumping all of your potent seed deep inside of me, filling my fertile womb, I will get pregnant. And, with the changes to the abortion law, I would have no choice but to give birth. Is that what you really want? To humiliate your father by having our baby displayed in the hospital observing room? And how would he feel to see me breastfeeding YOUR baby in that private hospital room? Think of the shame, the disgrace, the embarrassment your own father would feel as he saw me, his legally wed wife, suckling YOUR baby, giving it warm, sweet breastmilk to fill its little tummy with nourishment. The horror he would see and feel. The only thing worse would be for him to have you push him out of the way and put yourself on that other breast. Your poor father would be in shock as he saw you breastfeed off your own mother, guzzling mouthfuls of that delicious mother’s milk, swallowing it greedily. Your poor father humiliated like that!’
Well, dear diary, that speech was even less successful at stopping my studly son than the first one was. With his unit re-invigorated, he remained on his back, but now used his superman strength to put me aboard him. I have to confess, dear diary that I did not protest in any way. As a matter of record, I started moving up and down on that Washington monument of his without his help. I used the powerful muscles inside me to give him a few tugs, just to say howdy. His cock was so rough and uncut, it really tantalized and excited the entire pathway from opening to my back walls. Every time I fell on top of him, that thing lodged inside me, filling me up. I felt like I was sliding up and down on top of a ten inch long iron bed post. When it just got too damn good, I swooned down to kiss him. He grabbed me in a bear-like grip and then nearly drowned my insides with another torrent of manly seed. When we stopped and just listened, we could literally hear the zit-zit-zit sound of his manly squirt-gun, coating my walls in white inside there. Once again, I had that overpowering feeling of warmth, wetness, and fullness. We kissed as lovers for the very first time. When we broke the kiss, he whispered into my ear for me to have his baby. At that moment, I made a huge decision…I decided to do that for him…to give birth if I was pregnant. His father? He could just whimper about it. Any so-called man like him with only about one third of the muscle power or cock power of my son Jimmy was no threat at all.”
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32