The crash of thunder work him. He lay in the dark, watching the light show outside through his window, counting the seconds between the flashes and the inevitable crackle of thunder; sometimes not even a second would pass before the trailing boom which seemed to shake his room.
He wouldn't let the storm upset him. He pulled his legs up to his chest as he lay on his side. And that was when he began to feel the stirrings in his stomach that he'd only just started to welcome. At first, a few months ago, they scared him. Now they were his seemingly-constant companion. He didn't know what to call them yet but he began to recognize them as they faintly brushed passed him. He initially pushed them away, afraid, but now he embraced them. They fluttered inside him, sending electricity through him, like the lightning that flashed outside.
He pictured a hydrant being opened and the way water flowed into a firehose, making it taut. That's what was happening to his penis, the blood flowing in, making him hard. And, along with the mental picture of the firehose, he began getting glimpses of other things that pleased him, though sometimes they upset him. The one image that wouldn't abate was that of his mother when he saw her the week before coming out of the shower on her way to his parents' bedroom. The towel hadn't been closed all the way and had dropped while she moved down the hallway. He saw his mother's full form, her bare breasts, her long legs, and the triangle of hair below her stomach. It only lasted for a few seconds before she hurriedly gathered the towel around her front and disappeared into the bedroom but it left an indelible impression. And one that he contemplated down as his hand crept down between his legs to feel the small hardness that tented his pajama bottoms.
He closed his eyes, the external flashes of the lightning fading now to the internal images of his mother, he became as small as an insect and walked along her skin, looking at her pores, seeing the bumps around her nipples, traipsing among the hair below her belly... and wanting to wander farther, unsure of what awaited him there.
Lost in his revelry, he didn't hear the small click as the bedroom door opened. It wasn't until the mattress shifted that he startled to his senses. The scent of his mother's perfume made him wonder if he was still inside his head or not.
"Honey, I'm sorry to wake you," she said, her voice seeming to come from everywhere in the dark. "The storm woke me up and I too scared to stay in that big bed all alone."
She moved close to him and he panicked, feeling like his penis stuck out in front of him a full yard or more.
She moved her back toward him, facing away from the sound of her voice, and before he could move, her leg brushed against his penis which had come out of the slit in his pajamas.
His breath caught on his throat. He felt his face flush with wild embarrassment and shame. He just wanted his mother to fall asleep and he would lay next to her all night, smelling her, and thinking about her.
But... did he imagine it...? He felt her leg move again against him. Not a brush this time. It felt... deliberate. Was she just getting settled in? Or... was it something else?
There it was again. He felt a rather rhythmic rub from her bare leg against his erection. He couldn't stop himself when a small moan came up from his stomach.
"You like that, baby?" he heard his mother whisper. "My little boy's growing up."
He felt the mattress shift again as his mother rolled over to face him. He missed the touch of her leg but a new sensation replaced it, the cool play of her fingers contrasted the heat that built now between his legs.
"This was hard when I got in here... So I didn't wake you up, did I?"
He muttered a small no, his breath still eluding him as he felt her hand grip him tighter.
"What were you thinking of that got you so excited, honey?"
The burning in his cheeks only intensified, he felt almost sure that his face glowed in the dark.
"Was it a girl at school?" She grabbed him, waiting for a response to her question from his erection.
"Was it your teacher?" Nothing happened.
"Was it a neighbor?" Nothing.
"Was it me?" He groaned and his little hard-on jumped in his mother's grasp.
"Oh, honey..." she said sounding at once disappointed and flattered.
"It's natural for a boy to feel that way about his mother." She began stroking him again, gently but firmly.
"And, honey, if I'm to be completely honest... I think I knew that."
He felt something push against his face and instinctively opened his mouth, only to find his mother's breast waiting there. He felt her nipple harden under his tongue and he moaned again.
"Yes, baby, take Mommy's breast into your mouth again." She grasping him harder, her passion beginning to wax.
He was awash with strange sensations and conflicting feelings. Somewhere in the primitive part of his brain he realized that this was wrong but the rest of his mind was flooded in hormones, washing away any hesitation as he begin moving his hips in time with his mother's hand, thrusting and wanting desperately to do more.
"Do you like this, baby? Then you'll love what's next..." She pushed him away, leaving him disappointed -- his mouth now empty and his hard-on exposed. He lay on his back and could make out the curves of his mother kneeling on the bed next to him. He wasn't sure exactly what she did as she put a leg across him. He felt something wet on the head of his penis and felt his mother's hand again.
Before he could even tell what was going on, he suddenly felt his penis engulfed in something warm, wet, and greedy. He knew instinctively that he was inside of his mother. She gasped and then moaned as she adjusted to position herself so she could begin moving her hips up and down on him. He couldn't help but cry out as he experienced feelings he'd never had before.
She became an animal, losing her ability to speak. Instead, she grunted her approval as she fucked her son. The wet sloppy sounds of their skin smacking together filled the room before being buried by her groans. She knew what she wanted and was taking it.
She looked down at her son, seeing him look as he's never done before, seeing lust on his face for the first time, lust for her. Seeing him there, beneath her, his month open, his eyes half-shut, gasping for breath, set her over the edge.
She collapsed on top of him, feeling his mouth finding a breast and latching on again. She laid there, allowing him to suckle until she could regain her composure.
"Now," she said, "Show me what you can do, baby." She moved next to him and put a hand on his crotch. "Show me what you do when you think of Mommy..."
His face burned as he laid next to her, masturbating in front of his mother, suckling on her breasts while his hands worked his cock. "Yes," she whispered, "Show me you're a big boy for Mommy..."
When he came, she put her hand out to catch his ejaculation before moving it to his mouth. The panic on his face subsided when she shushed him, feeding him his cum.
"You'll learn to like that, baby. And soon you'll want to have it from you and from others... but let's not get ahead of ourselves... Now, baby, we'll get a little sleep and do this again in the morning..."
No comments:
Post a Comment