Chapter 1

Caution: This Erotic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft, mt/Fa, Ma/mt, mt/mt, Mult, Teenagers, Consensual, Reluctant, BiSexual, TransGender, Science Fiction, Incest, Mother, Son, Daughter, Humiliation, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation, Petting, Cream Pie, Public Sex, School, .

Desc: Erotic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - In a near-future dystopia, Jason struggles to find his true identity. His dad's a cop, his mother's in prison, and the teenage boy isn't sure if he's dating his prostitute girlfriend, her daughter, or both of them at the same time.

"Hey, uh ... Dad?" I glanced at him as I picked at my dinner.

"Hmmm?" He looked at me and I wished he'd changed clothes after work. His black uniform always made me nervous, even though he was my dad.

"I was thinking, um..." I cleared my throat. "Maybe I could..."

"I aced my science test today," Mark said, speaking right over me, but I'd been sort of muttering anyway.

"Good for you, champ." Dad gave him a nod, but kept his eyes on me. "What were you saying, Jason?"

"Well, um..."

"I have to get going," my brother said. "I told Linda I'd pick her up at seven. Can I take the Porsche tonight?"

"Huh?" That got our father's attention. "What's this girl look like?"

"She's smokin'," Mark assured him with a grin. "You wouldn't believe how hot she is. Please? I'll be careful."

"Have you got condoms?"

"Oh yeah! I've got a bunch of those, Pops."

"Alright," Dad agreed. "Just don't get the seats all wet."

"I'll try!" my brother said, grinning. "See ya later!"

"And don't mess with the radio," Dad called after him. "I've got it just the way I like it."

They were more like brothers than father and son, it seemed to me. Mark had always been a smart, good looking boy and he took after our dad that way. He always had a hot girl waiting for him and liked to boast about how much sex he had. Usually she was someone else's girlfriend, however, which only made it that much better. If the guy made a big deal out of it, Mark would beat him up. Sometimes he did it anyway, just to add injury to insult, and our dad encouraged him that way.

Dad wanted my brother to be a cop, like he was, and everyone knew policemen didn't take crap from anybody. If my dad wanted to nail some guy's wife, he did it and most often right in front of her husband. Sometimes her kids, too. He had a lot of stories about busting some drug dealer or whatever, breaking down the door and handcuffing the man. Making him watch while Dad strip searched his wife, maybe his daughter if she was old enough, and then fucking her. If the woman didn't like it, he'd arrest her as well, usually charging her with trying to bribe him with sex -- After he'd already fucked her, I mean. That was always the punch line.

My dad was an asshole and Mark was an asshole in training. I took after my mom, I guess.

"Now then." He looked at me. "What we're you saying, Jason?"

"Oh." I swallowed hard. "I was thinking, um ... I might visit Mom tomorrow."

"You saw her last week." Dad stabbed a potato.

I shrugged. "Yeah. I know."

"Well," he sighed. "She's your mother."

"Yeah." I went back to eating and we didn't have much else to talk about.

I'd planned on asking him something else entirely, but that wouldn't have been too wise, probably. My dad hated fags, just like all cops did, and I already knew he had his suspicions, even though I was always careful around him. I really didn't act like a fag, at least not around the house. Plus I had a cool girlfriend and he knew all about Jennifer, but I had a boyfriend, too. My dad didn't have a clue about Stephen and being a cop, maybe he was always suspicious and I was only being paranoid. It wasn't like it would really matter anyway, if I'm to be honest about it. He probably wouldn't even care, but only act like it just because he wanted the reputation of being an old school hard ass.

Sometimes I think I just liked all the contradictions, as if I deserved a life as messed up as mine and nothing was supposed to be easy.


"No, don't bother with all that," the guard told me as I started emptying my pockets. "You're good to go. We put her in lucky seven. Take your time, it's slow today."

"Thanks." I nodded, pushing open the heavy steel door when it buzzed.

The good thing about being a cop's son is that nobody messed with me. I didn't have to suffer all the hassle that regular people did, although just being there was embarrassing enough. Another guard walked the hallway and he smiled when he saw me, already reaching for his magnetic key card.

"Jason," he said. "Back again, huh? You must really love your momma."

"I guess so," I agreed, returning his smile. I tried to get along with those guys, just so they might cut my mom some slack.

He opened the door, another one made of steel with a small, bulletproof window near the top. It had a large numeral seven painted on it and a sign with dire warnings about what to do in case of emergency -- Remain where you are. Face away from the door and put your hands on your head. Wait for further instruction -- That's what the sign told me and it didn't specify what sort of emergency it referred to. Fire, tornado, earthquake, or prison riot, it didn't matter, Lethal Force is Authorized.

I stepped into the room and it was empty of furnishings but for the metal bunk mounted to the wall. The walls were cinderblock and painted yellow. The fluorescent lights above us were protected by wire and a camera in the corner watched everything.

"Hi Mom." I smiled at her as the guard pulled the door shut behind me, locking us in.

"Jason," she sighed, pursing her lips and patting the thin mattress beside her. "Sit down. What are you doing here? You should be at school."

"Math test today," I said. "I wanted to skip it."

"Ummm ... I missed you." She put her arms around me as I sat beside her, tossing some blonde hair out of her face.

"What happened?" I asked, frowning at the bruise around her left eye. She had bright blue eyes, but pale like a winter sky and always a little sad, I thought.

"Oh, it's nothing," she protested. "I got a new cellmate, Kathy, and we were working things out. You know."

"Maybe I should talk to dad," I thought aloud.

My mother was an attractive woman, although nothing like she could have been outside. Prison wasn't easy on anyone and I wasn't stupid, I knew what happened to pretty girls like her. Between the guards and the other inmates, she spent most of her time on her back or on her knees. I didn't blame her for wanting real affection, but it did make me uncomfortable when she kissed my cheek, my chin, all around my mouth as she grew excited.

"Mom..." I winced as she pressed her hand to my crotch, squeezing my cock through my pants. "Let's talk first. Okay?"

"No..." she panted. "We can talk later. Kiss me, Jason. I love you so much, baby."

Her lips found mine and I had no choice but to open for her tongue. I'd tried to refuse her in the beginning, knowing such a thing had to be wrong, but my mom lived for these conjugal visits. Prison had made her a little crazy. She needed affection and more than that, she needed to express it, but the woman was emotionally crippled and only knew one way to share her feelings. I knew she loved me like the son I was. Mom worried over my life, school and friends, all that stuff, and she wanted more than anything to be free to raise me, but she couldn't. So she fucked me instead.

I found her braless breasts as I tugged the Velcro of her jumpsuit open. She wore nothing beneath and Mom shrugged it off her shoulders while I nursed on her tongue. Even at her age, thirty-three, she had an amazing body. Probably because she ate healthy food -- not a lot of cookie dough in prison -- and got plenty of exercise. There wasn't much else to do and while looking good got her raped on a regular basis by the guards, it was also pretty good insurance. Fucking kept her alive, you know? She had a Daddy, a dyke who kept her close, whored her out to other inmates for favors, stuff like that.

The details are unimportant and I avoided asking too many questions, but I couldn't help admiring her firm, upturned tits and hard, flat tummy. She had some tattoos, tribal ink around her dark nipples, around her belly button, etcetera. Further down she had 'Fucked For Life' penned across the clean shaven swell of her pubis, with a bleeding heart pointing at her pronounced clitoris. I slid my fingers down as Mom pulled my mouth to her left breast, cradling me to her nipple as I stroked her tattoo and lower. The jumpsuit opened enough that I could massage her clit and finger her pussy.

"Oh! Like that," she agreed, lifting her butt and pushing her jumper awkwardly down to her knees. "Suck me, baby. Bite my tits. Harder, like that. Uh-huh!"

I did as she told me, pulling her left nipple into my mouth and gently chewing the rubbery nub. Mom spread her legs as I curled my middle finger. Her labia, the inner lips, were always long and moist. She liked to have them pinched and pulled, the harder the better, but for the moment I only fingered her hot, pink hole. She was wet inside, and not just with her girl juice, but with buttery semen as well. Doubtless the guard outside had fucked her just before my arrival, but that wasn't unusual.

Mom had my cock free after a moment of excited fumbling with my pants. She began jerking me off while she kissed my hair, whispering meaningless words of motherly love into my ear. She would tell me how proud she was of me. How she admired my strength and good looks, and how the other inmates were jealous that she had a son who loved her. She lived for my visits. They kept her sane and hopeful. She had a parole hearing soon, she said, and when she got out of prison we could be together. We'd be a family and our lives would be perfect.

I agreed with everything she said, even though I knew she wasn't up for parole for another twelve years or so. After my father had knocked her up, she'd expected him to divorce his wife and marry her. Mom had been sixteen and Dad had dumped her hard, so she'd stabbed Mark's mother over two dozen times. In the chest and back, even in the woman's cunt. She probably would have killed my brother as well, except Dad had gotten home just in time to stop her. Some guy wrote a book about it. They even made a movie, but Dad said it wasn't like that at all. My mom hadn't been standing at the crib with a bloody knife when he shot her - she'd been standing in the kitchen drinking Snapple.

Sometimes I wondered if he'd been trying to shoot me, too, but I never asked. They'd done an emergency cesarean right there on the kitchen floor and I'd been born six weeks early, but healthy and alive. Mom survived, obviously, although she wasn't going to have anymore babies. When my other hand moved up and down her back, I could feel the soft pucker of her scar just above and to the right of her ass. She'd lost a kidney, but Dad would always say, "That's why God gave her two."

I wondered what God would say about shooting an unarmed pregnant woman in the back, but she was my mom and I hadn't come home to find my wife murdered in the living room. Anyway, my brother hated her and I loved her. That's just how it is sometimes, near as I can tell.

"Go down on me," she urged. "You know how much I love it when you kiss me."

"Yeah," I breathed, and the idea that she was full of sperm only bothered me a little. To be honest, the reluctance I felt was due to the camera, not to any feigned repugnance. By the time I was sixteen, I knew I was bisexual. I just didn't like being watched.

The guards weren't going to see anything they hadn't before, however, and I went to my knees on the concrete floor easily enough. Mom leaned against the wall, spreading her legs over and around my shoulders as she played with my hair. Her eyes were shining and she wore a dazzling smile, giving me a hint of the beautiful youth that she'd lost. I kissed her stomach and licked her tattoo, teasing her with my teeth until she pushed me impatiently to her vulva.

"Ummm ... My clit," she whispered. "Suck my clit, baby."

I did precisely that, drawing her exposed clitoris and more into my mouth. She had a generous camel toe, a lot of wrinkled, velvet skin to play with. I would suckle hard and tease her with my tongue, pulling sharp gasps and soft moans of pleasure from her lips. Mom jerked her hips and tightened her thighs, rubbing my back with her calves to show her appreciation. After sucking her clit, and I'd extend my tongue, lapping at her slit and flicking the tip across her sensitive clitoris. I pinched her labia, turning my face and sucking hard. They were long and thick, almost rubbery as I began to chew them like bubblegum. Mom enjoyed that quite a lot and I squeezed her hips as she began to grind her cunt against my mouth.

When she started cumming, I sealed my lips to her vulva with my tongue wriggling inside her quivering vagina. I could taste her oily cum, sharp and tart and almost metallic, but it was followed quickly with the salty, sour flavor of male semen. Her cunt contracted rapidly, pushing the stuff into my open mouth and I swallowed hard and fast to keep up with the creamy flow. It made my cock ache, I'm almost ashamed to say, eating another man out of my mother's freshly fucked hole. I reached down to tug at my throbbing prick.

"Fuck me!" she gasped, sagging pink and breathless onto the bunk. "Love me, Jason. Love your Mommy, baby."

"Yeah," I groaned, dizzy with excitement as I pushed her legs over my shoulders. "I'm going to fuck you, Mom. I love you so much."

I rubbed my swollen cockhead around her slit, finding the soft wet furrow and following it downward to the mouth of her sex. I pushed inside her without hesitation, fearing that I'd ejaculate too soon. I always came quickly the first time and we always followed the same ritual, performing the same foreplay every time I'd visit. I drove my cock into her vagina until my balls slapped her upturned ass and I held myself there, leaning into her for a kiss. I had her knees touching her shoulders, pinned down and helpless the way she liked it. Mom came again, just that quickly, and I fed her my tongue as my balls began to empty their incestuous sperm.

We fucked again. My cock refused to go soft, trapped as it was inside such a warm, wet, and wonderful place. This time we could take our time and I enjoyed taking her pussy with long strokes, pulling nearly all the way out, enough so I could feel the surprising tightness of her cuntal mouth beginning to close around the tip of my penis, and then stretching once more as I slid back inside. We didn't speak, but we would kiss and smile, panting across each others lips in time with our hips. She'd lift herself as much possible, tilting her pelvis to meet mine, and a damp, hollow slapping sound echoed in the bare room.

Soon enough, too soon it seemed to me, I began to move faster. My second orgasm was rising even as my mom started cumming again. We'd found the perfect angle and her clitoris rode my shaft, bringing her off with a low, guttural moan of pleasure. I felt her vaginal walls clutching at my erection, making it better despite the soupy remains of our previous orgasms. We were mixed inside her and our cum spilled around my cock, dripping down her ass to puddle on the vinyl mattress. I came inside her a second time and it was better than my first, more deliberate and welcome, and I didn't stop pumping her cunt until the spasms had finished completely.

"Do you have a girlfriend yet?" she wondered, rubbing her cum soaked pussy as I dressed.

"Not yet," I lied. The one time I'd told her the truth, she'd gone a little crazy.

"Good," she sighed, smiling happily. "They're no good for you, Jason. They're all sluts."

"I know, Mom." I nodded. "I was thinking though, uh ... I might try that Transition stuff."

"Try what?" She narrowed her eyes.

"Transition?" I repeated. "Do you know what that is?"

"I've never heard of it."

"It's not important," I decided.

She'd been locked up without any television or internet for over fifteen years. Not even a newspaper. I seriously doubted that my mom knew who the President of California was just then. It's the biggest reason I'd wanted to see her, just because I needed to talk to someone, but I should have known better.

"Do you need anything?" I asked her. "When I come next week, I'll bring some stuff."

"You didn't bring anything today?" she asked, pursing her lips.

"I got some cigarettes." I pulled out four packs from my jacket pockets.

I tapped one of them with my finger so she'd know where the money was hidden. You wouldn't think prisoners need money, but they do. It was traded among the inmates for a variety of things, but it ultimately ended up bribing a guard. That's where the value of a dollar resides and I'd become expert at sneaking money to my mom, and not being searched on my way in only made it easier. It wasn't a lot, just a couple hundred bucks that I'd swiped from my dad's dresser. He'd miss it in a day or two and there'd be some hell to pay, but I think he left the money there on purpose. He wanted nothing to do with my mom, but he knew I fucked her and that amused him.

"Tell your father I love him," she said, still laying there as I banged my fist on the door.

"I will," I promised, but that was another lie. "Bye Mom."

"Bye-bye, baby. Do good in school."

"Have a nice visit?" The guard grinned at me and I ignored him. I turned right, walking away as he entered the room. "No. Don't bother getting dressed, Melissa. Just roll over and show me that pretty asshole of yours."

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