Chapter 2... is My Son's Sweet Ass

My name is Susan. I'm not using my last name because I have read some of the e-mails that you people have sent regarding my son's story about raping me - frankly you people make me sick. You disgust and scare the shit out of me. What my son did was wrong. It was evil. He betrayed me, he RAPED me! He laughed in my face, spit on my love, and then wrote to every fucking adult story site, bragging about how all he wanted for Christmas was my sweet ass. But you people loved it. You loved it when he stormed into my bedroom and stripped me. You just loved it when he agreed not to get me pregnant, only if I would help him fuck my ass. Oh you thought it was so great when I spread my ass for him, when he licked and sucked and drooled in my butt, when he made me cum like a slutty little whore. You begged him for pictures of me. Just because I posed for Penthouse years ago does not mean I want you seeing me now. I'm a completely different person. Some of you felt I deserved it because I allowed my son to kiss me and fondle me a little earlier. I was drunk, I missed my dead husband. John looks just like his father at 16; the age that I met and fell in love with him. He took me out to the Paladin Club for a special dinner, just like my husband used to. For a little while the alcohol, my loneliness and the fond memories of that place combined and it felt like my loving husband was with me again. For a little while I responded to my son as if he were my husband. From his filthy story that he published via Webtv, I learned that was his plan all along.

While it is true that was a mistake; it does not change one simple fact. I said NO! I begged him to stop. Even if a woman makes out with you a little, even if she feels a guy's butt through his pants, that does not mean she has to have sex with him. I have the right not to be fucked up the ass by my son. No means NO. One year ago my son took something precious away from me. He took my ability to trust myself, my judgement.

I mean if I am too stupid to realize that my only son is lusting after me for weeks, that he is committed to raping his mother - who can I trust. This last year has been a shit-storm. I have tried to forget and forgive my son. But when I saw that he used that fucking WEBTV to tell the whole world what he did, that there was no shame, no remorse - I feel the anger begin to bubble up in me. When I think how many of you took pleasure in my rape, how many of you beat your tiny little pricks in glee at my humiliation, at the worst thing that has ever happened to me - I want revenge. Yes John took something precious from me; but this Christmas I'm taking it back.

I'm getting a little ahead of myself. I did not come to the decision to rape and humiliate my son easily. I want you to understand that. The period immediately after my rape was very difficult. I could not bring myself to call the police on my only son, to humiliate myself further by letting the whole world know what a fool I was, what a sick prick I had for a son. I was so scared. Imagine sleeping every night with a rapist in your house. You try taking a shower knowing your rapist is just a few yards away. You're naked, wet and defenseless and you hear a floor board creek, or was it the bathroom door opening? For two months I barricaded my door every night, and slept in fear of a second rape. It never came.

At Valentine's day I found my 16 yr old son crying in the kitchen. I was still his mother. No matter how angry I was at him.

"John, what's wrong, why are you crying."

"Oh mom(sniffle), I just realized that you are never going to forgive me for what I did. You don't love me any more. With Dad and Grandma dead, I have nobody. Mom I didn't really rape you. I just needed you so bad, I kind of pressured you until you surrendered that incredible ass to me. I know it was wrong, that it was a mistake. But mom wasn't it wrong for you to make out with me and squeeze my ass while we were dancing? Look - all I'm saying is we would both handle things differently if we could relive that night."

As a mother it is never easy to see your child in pain. Your instincts take over and you want to comfort him. I can't explain it better than that. As angry as I was... there was a part of me that had to wonder what would have happened if I had stopped my son the first time he kissed me. If I had never gotten drunk, or played with his ass, would he have raped me that night? Was this my fault?

"John I don't hate you... I have to admit that you have damaged our relationship. I am a little scared to be around you but I am still your mother and I want us to work things out."

I was startled when my son rushed over to me and wrapped his arms around me and held me tight to him. He was still crying.

"I am so sorry mom, I love you. Please you gotta forgive me. I need your love and your trust back. Just say you will give us a chance. I swear to god mom I will never force you to have sex with me again."

At first I was so scared being held by my rapist, smelling him, feeling my breasts mash tight against his chest I did not know what to do. Then a strange thing happened. As he rocked me, as his tears washed me, as I heard the pain and sincerity in his voice... he started becoming my son again. I briefly hugged him back, and reached up to brush his tears away. No matter what he had done this was my only son. He was right about one thing, we had nobody else.

"John... I want us to get past this. I am willing to try. You are my son and I love you. It's going to take some time but... I think we have a good chance if we take it slow and work hard," I said as my son lifted me in the air and spun me around. He was deliriously happy and it was infectious. John held me for several minutes. He seemed so grateful for the privilege he did not want it to end. It was almost as if he feared that once he let me go I would retreat back into the shell of the past 2 months. John was a big bo - strike that, a big man. At 6'2" he was defensive captain of the jr varsity football team. I could feel his muscles rippling and bulging around me. His hands were so large, they covered half my back and stomach, When he lifted me I felt myself sliding against him, against his manhood. He wasn't exactly erect but... there was definitely some activity down there. He must have felt me stiffen, because he put me down immediately.

"Mom I have a great idea, now hear me out. If we are going to start over, I'd like to have another chance at our date. Think about it - that's where everything went wrong. I need to be able to see you as my mom again, not as an incredibly sexy woman. This Sat is Valentines day, let's go to the Paladin Club again. If I can control myself there, if I can dance with you, in a romantic setting, if we can drink and let our guards down around each other - just have fun like we used to, I think it will go a long way to healing us. Please mom, I'm begging you. Give me a chance to prove that you can trust me."

For that one instant I did trust him. He sounded so sincere, so desperate to please. Still I was surprised when I heard my voice say "yes" to him.

I rushed out of the kitchen and locked myself in my room. The next morning there was a knock on my bedroom door. "Mom can I come in, I need to talk." I was wearing a pair of green silk pajamas, I threw a robe on over it and said, "come in."

This was the first time John and I had been in my room since Christmas, since the night he raped me. I felt my heart pounding, but I tried to stay calm. As I looked at him I could see he was upset about something. He sat down next to me on the bed. The bed he had fucked my ass in less than 2 months earlier. I was a little scared but I tried to be a good mother.

"Tell me what's wrong John, you seem pretty upset."

"It's Beth mom, I think she's going to dump me cuz I'm too inexperienced. You were my first real woman. I was into sports so much, and then I was in love with you for months... I was a virgin when we made love. Beth has been great for me and I don't want to lose her, but I don't know what to do." I could not believe it, he was seeing a girl his own age. This was terrific! I had been so out of touch with his life lately, I did not even know he was dating. I wanted this relationship to succeed. I needed my son to re-focus his attention on another woman. I was afraid if this relationship ended badly he would fixate on me again. If he needed help I would make sure he got it.

"John, is there anything specific that Beth doesn't like about your relationship?"

"Well... it's kind of embarrassing, but... she doesn't seem to like kissing me, she's always distracted or, I don't know bored. I guess I'm not a very good kisser," he mumbled.

I was very confused. I found myself in the odd and awkward position of taking up for my son's kissing technique. I knew firsthand that he was an amazing kisser. Before he raped me I had willingly made out with him twice. The way he licked and sucked on my lips... was simply delicious. His tongue played with mine and I was just a step away from surrendering my body to him when my conscience woke me up and I told him to stop. No matter what happened after - his kisses were sweet and had made my pussy sweat, and drip, and itch for him. Something drastic must have changed. I decided to find out what.

"John... don't take this the wrong way... but the only way I can help is to see what you are doing wrong. Can you control yourself enough to show me. I am trusting you to stop when I tell you to. I want to help but I will hate you forever if you take advantage of me again. Are we clear. When I say stop you stop," I warned in a stern tone. I stood up and moved close to my son. I could see he was nervous and that helped me a little. Slowly he bent towards me and lightly brushed my lips with his. At first he kissed all around the corners of my mouth before pulling me in snug for a deep soul kiss. As I shared my son's warmth, breath and saliva there was no denying that it felt good. That surprised me. How could it possibly feel good to kiss the man who raped me? To this day I don't know. Sometimes I think back to that moment and realize how different my life would have been, if I had not kissed my son that fateful Valentine's eve. I knew it was wrong, as good as it felt to be in his arms, to kiss his neck, to suck on his Adam's apple - I never lost track of that. I guess that's why I asked him to stop.

"Please mom, mmmjust a litttle longer baby. You taste so good."

"John let go of me now! Take your hands off me this instant!" I yelled in rising panic.

"Mom, mom calm down, I'm not gonna hurt you. Look I'm stepping back. It's over. I won't hurt you ever again baby. You can trust me." As I collected myself a part of me felt cold. My body had begun instinctively preparing itself for sex and suddenly it was over. A part of me cried out in protest at the removal of my son's warmth. I wanted to wrap myself in his strong arms, to feel his thick hard on jamming into me. The silk of my pajamas was gliding over my clit, and clung between the folds of my ass. I was horny, and wet, and a little scared - but mostly I was horny. What's more I think I knew what John's problem with Beth was, and it wasn't good.

"John do you kiss Beth like you just kissed me?"

"No way mom you kiss a lot better than she does. Don't worry mom, I'm not going to do it; but after one kiss I feel like stripping those pajamas off you, spreading you on this bed and licking your cunt. I want to taste your sweet assmeat agin, to play with it, to ram my cock in it until you tell me that you love me. Beth never makes me feel like that. I'm starting to realize she never will... oh my god, the reason I'm so bad with her is cuz I don't love her. I think part of me feels like I'm cheating on you. That you won't want me if you found out I was fooling around with another woman. I still love you mom, only you. What am I gong to do, the only woman I want is the one that I can never have, oh mom what am I going to do?" John said in bitter dismay as he ran out of my room.

"I don't know son, I don't know what we are going to do," I said to the walls of my empty room.

Valentines day had arrived and we spent most of the day avoiding the large pink elephant that was in every room of our house. I could not believe that I was really going to do it. I was going out on a second date with my son the Rapist. It was a strange day from the start.

"Mom, wake up. I made you breakfast."

It took me a few minutes to adjust to my surroundings. I was in my bed. I had been dreaming of my 10th wedding anniversary. My husband had taken me to the Paladin Club. Afterwards we had come home and made love for hours. It was the first time he had worked up the nerve to ask me for anal sex. I always knew he liked playing with my ass. Ron would often sniff and kiss me down there, but it had never gone any farther. Once shortly after I posed for Penthouse he jokingly pretended that he could not find my pussy hole and suggested using the other one instead. I guess the look of fear and disgust on my face had caused him to wait over 8 years before asking again. That night I was deliriously happy, more than a little tipsy, and madly in love. I could not deny Ron, my ass. He was so gentle, incredibly tender. He let me get used to his thick cock filling my tiny asshole. He was so grateful after that first fuck, I just could not deny him a second one the next night. Anal sex definitely added spice and new energy to our sex life. Ron slowly trained me to need him that way. He always made sure that I came at least twice anally. Sometimes he would lick my anus, plunging his tongue in and out, deeper and deeper, while rubbing and massaging my butt cheeks for what seemed like hours. Often he made me cum by playing with my clit while he rammed my ass. Anal sex became the predominant way we made love. Oh he'd fuck my pussy sometimes. I mean sometimes I'd get an itch there and only a nice thick donkey dick could scratch it. But I always knew after that first time, on my 10th wedding anniversary that my husband was never completely satisfied till he spread my cheeks open and slipped into the bottom of my tender, juicy little ass. That night was special to me, and after my husband's death, I'd revisit it. I'd smile at my dream lover and wait for that unique sensation of him slowly filling my ass with his cock.

I had obviously been having that dream again the morning John came into my room. My legs were slick with my own juices. and the front of my pajamas were noticeably damp. I had been sweating profusely and smelled like an odd mix of sweat, sex, soap and body lotion. I slowly opened my eyes and could see that John had prepared a lovely breakfast for us. By the time I was fully conscious he had set up two trays and before I could protest slid into bed next to me. We had done it 100 times before but not once since the rape. I missed it a little. The chance to catch up, the special intimacy of a mother and son. In the past sometimes he would cook and serve me in my bed and then another day I'd return the favor in his room. It made me feel like we were a family. I sat up in bed, smiled at him and thanked him for the meal. The maternal feelings did not last long. It seems that while I slept I had gotten hot and somehow unbuttoned 4 buttons on my Pajama top. When I sat up my 36D breasts spilled out into the open. As I was still aroused from my dream my long pink nipples were prominently displayed to my son. I realized what had happened after he was staring at me for a couple of seconds and quickly tried to cover up.

John stopped me.

"No mom, don't hide them. Let me see. Oh my god look at those nipples, look at them. I gotta have a taste."

John quickly bent to my chest and began slurping on my right tit for several seconds. His hands were rolling my left nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and he lightly squeezed it. The whole thing lasted around 20 seconds. The smell of my pussy filled the air. It was embarrassing.

"John... (groan) you, you have to stop. Please."

John gave me a few last baby sucks, and took a deep breath with his face buried between my breasts and slowly pulled away.

"I did it mom, see I CAN control myself. Mom can I just do one more thing? It will only take a couple of seconds. Then I promise I'll stop."

I never got a chance to respond. He opened the final 2 buttons on my top and began licking my stomach. He then started nibbling on the nubbin of my outie belly button. His hands darted inside my bottoms and he quickly scooped several fingers worth of my sticky cum and fed it to himself.

Apparently I was finger licking good, cuz my son had a happy smile on his face as he licked his fingers clean. I still had not had a good cum, but he stopped what he was doing and sat up in bed next to me. He then pulled me into his lap. My top was completely unbuttoned but at least he was not looking directly at me. I could feel John's hard on pressing into me. It felt good. His arms wrapped around me and he firmly cupped my breasts. He did not rub them or play with my nipples. He was just holding them, almost in a friendly manner. It was clear that he was allowing me to make the next move. I didn't.

I just stayed there in my son's arms, with his hands on my tits, and his dick pressing hard into my pajama clad ass and ate my breakfast. I wanted to tell him that I was just as scared, and confused and horny as he was. I wanted to tell him that if he were any other man I'd be fucking him now like a silly little slut in heat. But he wasn't any other man, he was my son. Worse still he was my Rapist. That wound was still there and it made it difficult for me to surrender my body to him; willingly, completely, utterly. In the back of my mind was that scene when I begged him in this very bed not to rape me, when I cried, and was humiliated by my only son. He had not cared how much he hurt me, how scared I was. He wanted my ass and he just fucking took it. As horny as I was, I did not forget, or forgive that. So we sat there in my bed while the smell of my cunt blended with the aroma of scrambled eggs, toast and coffee. I was not able to cum, but I did not say a word as he suddenly gasped, squeezed my tits hard and began humping me. For a good 30 seconds he dry fucked me, while I pretended to watch tv. I did not help him, but I did not stop him. He finally settled down and removed his hands from my tits. He gave me a tight embrace and sighed in contentment.

I buttoned up and my son held me until I drifted off to sleep in his arms. My dream picked up right where it had left off. Once again my husband was peeling my ass open. It was ok to cum now, because Ron had every right to fuck my ass. I felt so safe and secure in my husband's arms. I felt flood after flood of cum trickle down my legs as he power fucked my ass. That night I put on my favorite black evening dress, and a pair of high heels. I don't know why but I put on the necklace John had given me for Christmas. It felt strange to slip it on. I had never worn it. Barely looked at it, but I still knew the inscription by heart. "Susan - I love You. You are mine forever, body and soul - John."

As I came downstairs I felt a wave of deja vu, mixed with de jamis sweep over me. I knew I had been in a situation like this before. I had come down to meet a man, to display myself to him, to seek his approval at my appearance. As familiar as it felt... I was trying so hard to divorce myself from those emotions, to distance myself from prior romantic associations, that this time felt a little bit like it was the first time for me. Even though I knew I had been in this place before, I somehow felt that I never had. John looked me over with love and lust in his eyes.

"God, you look so beautiful. If you weren't my mom I'd have to kiss you right now," he said just as he had last Christmas eve. Then he reached into the crevice of my breasts and pulled out the necklace he had given me. The necklace that proclaimed his love and declared his ownership of me. How could I have been so stupid! I felt a hot blush spread over my face as he smiled in satisfaction. I had to set things straight.