Chapter 2: Bobby

This chapter written by my brother Ric

Join the Army – See the World – Meet Interesting People – And Kill Them!

This story is not about world politics, governmental policies, religious hatred or anything like that.

The heading is merely to explain why Dad is thousands of miles from home, meeting interesting people and trying to kill them.

And why I'm the only one left in the house available to put my lips on Mom's clit and suck it until she screams and screams and screams.

Let me set the scene. Plain and simple, Mom is a walking wet dream, even when she's walking around bundled up as chastely as a nun – which she is definitely not.

Like most boys my age, I used to whack off continuously, probably three or four times a day. And once I learned that it was girls who made me want to whack off, I always dreamt that it was Mom's cunt I was fucking as my cum spurted out, no matter which girl in whichever magazine I was drooling over at the moment. She had it all over every one of them. I never had a doubt that Mom was a real fox, having heard it and seen it as men and boys alike devoured her with their eyes.

It was Sunday morning. Mom had come into my room one last time, to give it one last try to convince me to go to Church with her. She was wearing that boner-maker white knit dress, the one that seemed as if she had been poured into it. She walked over to my bed to kiss me goodbye. As her tits led the way, I had a brief thought that the dress was kind of sexy for Church, but it quickly passed out of my mind.

As she walked away toward my door, I could see two fine ass cheeks pressing out the back of the dress. Not fat at all, just round and perfect. And from ten feet away, I could see her panty line on her right side. From the angle, I tried to calculate whether it was a bikini panty or just a piece of a thong, but to no avail. I knew that she had both from when I snooped in her undies drawer. I fell back asleep, visions of nudity in my mind.

I woke up a while later, glanced at the clock and calculated that I had plenty of time to relieve the pressure in my balls before she came home. And since Mom never walked into my room without knocking, I felt quite comfortable lying naked on my bed, my blood-filled dick in my right hand, which was flying up and down like a piston rod in a hot engine. My eyes were riveted to the center fold of the latest edition of Jerk-Off Magazine, 'Pictures for the Discriminating Teenager.'

Timing is everything. I should have heard her gentle tapping but the pressure of a rapidly approaching orgasm clogged my ears. So I didn't absorb Mom's words until I realized that she was in my room.

"Time for pancake brunch Bobby ... Holy shit!"

I jumped, like out of my skin. My face turned red as a beet and quickly I moved the magazine to hide my hard-on. She was still wearing that same knit dress. She never changed before we went out for brunch; half of the people in Church went to the same restaurant for Sunday brunch. All right, I exaggerate, but not by much. To repeat, I'd often seen the way men and boys alike had leered at her body and it made me proud. All those times that I'd dreamed of her naked body (not that I'd ever seen her that way but I had a good imagination) suddenly merged into one, flashing before my eyes as if I were drowning.

"Don't bother hiding it, Bobby. I've seen those things before. But not since your Dad shipped out overseas."

She lifted my modesty magazine off my dick and stared at the shrinking tool. She squinted, she smiled and then she sighed. Repeating herself,

"But not since your Dad shipped out."

I lay there frozen in time, unable to breathe. Mom reached out her hand and touched my cock, making it grow – if that was even possible. Her head shook. She began to stroke my meat, gently, the way I usually began my masturbation. And just as I always do, she gradually increase the speed of her hand, the friction on my crown. My cum began to bubble in my balls.

"Jeez, I miss your Dad so much."

"Stop, Mom," I yelled, putting my hand on top of hers. "I'm ready to cum."

"I thought that cumming was the whole point of what you were doing," she said. "Jeez, whenever I do the laundry, every pair of your underpants and every handkerchief have dried cum all over them. And sometimes I find cum on one of the pieces of my underwear. You're the only possible source, young man. I'm ashamed to admit that I get a thrill out of that. But boy, you really need to get laid."

"Way back when, before Dad shipped out the time before last, we'd had a talk, and he told me to try never to cum before the girl does and I've been following his advice every time."

Let me clarify something. What I said to Mom about having a talk with Dad was definitely not a lie, but nevertheless was rather misleading. One warm summer evening, Mom had a girls' night out, playing Canasta with some of her friends. Dad and I decided, well, he decided actually, to have some pizza for dinner and we went to our favorite restaurant.

Our conversation covered things as diverse as math and baseball, local politics and girls, war and peace and space exploration, pizza where we were versus pizza from home delivery chains. Then...

"Any major plans tonight, Bobby?"

"No, Dad. Wanna go home and watch some football?"

"No. Let's go for a ride."

"Where to, Dad?"

"You'll see."

We drove for about ten minutes, maybe a little more. The businesses on either side of the street were becoming more and more seedy looking. Steel gates blocked entrance to many of them. A few, like pawn shops, had full gates, preventing even a window from being broken. Street lights became few and were farther apart. Then we drove beyond the retail locations to where we saw nothing but warehouses and factories, all shuttered for the night. Dad turned down a one-way street and slowed the car. Although I didn't know it at the time, we were quite close to Pioneer Square. All I saw were shadowy figures in doorways. Holy shit! I may have been a virgin, but I sure as hell knew what whores looked like.

The car slid quietly to the curb and stopped. A woman moved silently to the driver's side window and bent down. She looked at Dad, at me and then back at Dad.

"Looking for somebody to teach your son the finer things in life?"

Holy shit! Dad's planning to pay this whore to take my cherry. Jeez, did Mom put him up to this or is he on his own? Oh jeez, does Dad use these whores? Fuck, Mom would kill him, I'm sure.

"Where's Luz?"

When she spoke, I could hear disappointment in the whore's voice, yet coupled with optimism.

"She got in someone's car and went for a drive. Can I help you?"

"I'll wait," Dad said.

"Fuck you," the whore spat as she walked away. "Ignore this guy. He's waiting for Luz," she yelled to the other girls.

We sat silently, Dad's fingers tapping on the steering wheel. I had a million questions but couldn't articulate any of them. Finally, a black jalopy pulled to the curb and a whorishly dressed woman exited the passenger side. Actually, she was closer to girl than woman, barely older than I. Dad flashed his lights once and she looked up, smiled and walked toward our car.

All I could see, or rather all that my eyes could absorb was the most fantastic rack that I'd ever had the pleasure of viewing, live or on a screen. It was, and I say this with deep prejudice, even more erotic than the set of tits that graced Mom's chest. My cock damn near tore a hole in my pants as the blood raced to that important part of my body.

"Hello, Henry. Is this your son Joey that you've told me so much about?"

Henry? Joey? What the fuck was going on? Dad's name was Michael (Mike) and you already know that my name is Bobby.

Dad just smiled and handed some folded cash out the window. Without counting it, she bent down, obviously to slide the money into the top of her boot. She opened the back door and sat down inside the car.

"Come back here with me, Joey. I want to see what you look like up close."

Well, fuck, I knew damn well that something good was about to happen. Blow job, hand job, fucking, I didn't care, but I was ready for whatever Dad's money had just paid for. I almost jumped over the front seat to get to the back, but finally decided to act like a gentleman, exiting the car and reentering properly.

"Your Dad thinks that you're a virgin, Joey. Is he correct?"

Tongue tied, my head just nodded.

"If you'd like, I think I know just the cure for that. Would you like me to show you?"

My head bounced up and down like a bobble-head doll, a shit-eatin' grin on my face. Luz, I later learned that it was her real name, opened my belt and pulled it out of my jeans. She fumbled with my top button, got it open and pulled down my zipper. My cock was baseball-bat stiff, pushing my undershorts out through the new opening where the zipper had been. Her hand lightly touched my ass.

I understood, and leaned back on my elbows, allowing my ass enough room so that she could slide off my jeans, yanking off my sneakers on the way down so that the jeans could get off completely. With my shorts the only thing left below my waist, she pulled them off gently. She handed them over the seat to my Dad.

"Hold these for me, Henry. I like to keep souvenirs from all my virgins. And please don't watch us, Dear. Your son may be shy."

She was right. Of course I was shy about sex, whatever kind, in the presence of my Dad, but I was also too shy to ask him to take a walk around the block in that skuzzy neighborhood.

Luz leaned back against the door, one foot on the floor and the other stretched out along the back seat. Her nipples pressed out against her t-shirt, and she pulled the shirt up, exposing bra-less tits. She then pulled up her skirt, resting it on her stomach between her waist and her boobs.

"Take off my panties, Joey." As I slid them down over her hips, I felt the oily dampness of somebody's cum. I knew the feel of the stuff, having used my own cum from time to time to rub into my still hard cock after jerking off. I knew instinctively that it wasn't just female lubrication.

"Would you like to keep them, Joey? For your own souvenir? After you and your Dad, I'm finished with them for the night."

"If you take mine, maybe I'll wear yours home tonight."

"They'll be snug on you, Joey. You're so much bigger than me."

"I don't think I'll mind," I said.

Finished with the pleasantries, but aah, not the pleasures, Luz reached out, pulled me toward her by grabbing my cock. She ran the crown up and down her wet slit and then guided me inside her. Despite her small size, I was able to slide in all the way up to the hilt, to the base of my fuck weapon.

Though I've fucked many a pussy since then, including the one between Luz' legs, I doubt that I've ever felt the excitement of that first time. Which I guess is rather to be assumed. Though her vaginal walls were tight, I knew that I was getting sloppy seconds, or thirds or fourths or whatever, and so was not surprised by the ease of entry. I held still, knowing from my many instances of masturbation that the more exciting the photo or video inspiration that I was using, the faster I would cum.

And I didn't want to cum just yet. I wanted to feel her body's grip on my cock, I wanted to marinate in the ejaculate of however many men had preceded me into that very public cunt that evening.

Let me digress. Do not be shocked that this story refers to a prostitute who is letting johns fuck her without a condom. This story took place some years ago, back before AIDS raised its ugly head and before newspapers and TV began to use it as an excuse to write and speak about things such as 'vaginal sex' and penis and other titillating words designed to increase readership and viewership. Back when rubbers where still called scumbags and were used only to prevent unwanted pregnancies. Back before every street walker knew to carry 'raincoats' and to insist on their usage. Back when men understood that it was for a call girl's own protection and we did not object (except for the occasional very wealthy politician, from a distant state here unnamed, but you know who I mean, offered to pay huge extra fees for the privilege of going bareback into her sweet pussy).

We now return to the back seat of Dad's car. Much as I was enjoying just resting my cock inside this new – for me – receptacle, my balls kept sending messages that the sperm bubbling up inside me wanted to get out. My brain responded the only way it knew how, by thrusting my piece of meat forward and back into some warm and wet and snug opening. By hand, or now by cunt, or as I would one day learn, by sphincter, whatever held my members was suitable.

I exploded with a grunt, spurting my little soldiers into the battlefield already awash with the little soldiers of other men – and yes, despite my age, I felt like a man that night. Luz was silent, allowing me to soak in her wetness for a minute or so, before slowly withdrawing her welcoming opening. And as with most of my previous orgasms, I had to pee. I looked through the window, saw no one, and opened the back door. I could feel both Luz and Dad smiling at the sound of my urine bouncing off the manhole cover in the street.

"Stay here, Joey. I'm going up front to sit with Henry."

She crawled between the two front seats, over the console. I watched her naked asshole and her dripping cunt until they disappeared behind the passenger seat back.

"Eat me, darling Henry. I haven't had an orgasm all evening."

"Luz baby, you know I really don't like to go down on you."

"But this is special, baby. This is your son's fresh cum that you'll be sucking out of my pussy."

I don't really know what was going through Dad's head at that moment, but I saw his head disappear below the seat back. A soft sigh, the faintest sound of a licking tongue, the hint of someone sucking soda water through a straw, and finally a female shriek such as I had ever heard only from Mom when she and Dad were in their bedroom, doing their thing while I was still awake in the next room, doing my own thing by myself.

"Good night, Henry. Good night, Joey." She kissed Dad on the cheek as she left the car, and I replaced her in the front seat.

Wordlessly, Dad started the car toward home. He respected me enough not to tell me that I must not tell Mom about our little interlude.

"Henry? Joey? Who are they, Dad?"

"There's no need for a whore to have your correct name, Bobby."

Back to that first Sunday after Church when I finally got my fantasy satisfied with Mom.

"Every time you fucked a girl?"

I blushed at her language but I nodded.

"You're such a sweet boy. Why don't you show me how you do it?"

I looked at her face and saw only her Mona Lisa smile. The scene was unbelievable. She was offering me my greatest fantasy. It would be incest without witnesses and, I was as sure as 'it don't rain in Indianapolis', there would be no recriminations and plenty of repetitions. It felt as if I were a child with a terminal illness being given a dreamed for trip to an amusement park by a charity formed for things like that.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That's a good place to make a charitable contribution.

At best, I had thought that Mom would finish me off with a hand job and tuck me in to sleep, after announcing that it could never happen again, it was incest, it wasn't fair to Dad, all that other Mom-type bullshit that was being said just for her conscience. But oh no, it wasn't her brain that was in action, it was her clit and her pussy. She stood up and slowly pulled off her dress, leaving on just her bra and a thong. Well, that was one question answered. As her bra hit the floor, I stared at her tits, her nipples as firm as my cock. Her breasts defied gravity, showing not a hint of sag.

She had never told me if I had been breast fed. I had never asked, and it had never been the subject of discussion around the kitchen table. But at that moment I prayed fervently that I had been nursed on those beauties, and I knew that I would soon do so again, albeit without milk.

I pulled her down on me, aiming her tit at my mouth. She pulled away and slid down until our lips met, her tongue forcing itself inside my mouth. At the same time, her hand was on my balls, squeezing softly.

"Oh Jeez, Bobby, I need this so badly."

Stupid me! I couldn't just accept her sort of compliment. "The way you looked this morning, you could have had any man in Church."

She gave me such a shocked look. "Oh Bobby, that would have been so wrong. I would never have sex with anyone else. With you, I can pretend that I'm with your Dad."

Well, whatever excuse she wanted to give herself was fine with me, just so long as it didn't preclude what my cock and I had planned. My head moved to her tits and my lips began to nurse. Her hand pulled my head tight against her 34Cs – I read the labels when I go snooping through that special drawer. While I suckled, I could feel the bed shake as Mom rubbed her pussy. How nice, I thought. If Mom can get herself off, I won't have to worry about taking care of that before I could get my balls emptied. For, sure as shootin', that cum bubbling up down there was going someplace pretty soon. Hand, mouth, cunt – I didn't think much about assholes back then – however she wanted to take it, I was ready.

But even if it was to be just a hand job at first, I damn sure intended to I'd be in her mouth or cunt, or maybe even both, before I ever began to think about a pancake brunch. Well, maybe I would get to eat her, but I was sure that she'd taste better than pancakes.