Chapter 2

Her son stood halfway down the walk.

He was in his pyjamas, staring hard at his mother.

Connie’s hand went to her throat. She wasn’t frightened, but startled. She walked quickly to him, but when she placed her hand on his shoulder, he pulled away.

“Tommy, what’s wrong?” she asked.

“You whore!” he spat at her.

“What?” Connie gasped. “Tommy, don’t you call me that!”

“Fucking whore!” he said, anger in his voice. “You fucking, cock-sucking whore!”

He turned and ran into the house, leaving his mother standing halfway up the walk. Connie frowned, then felt her face turn hot. She hurried up the walk and locked the door behind her. It was two o’clock in the morning and Tommy should have been sound asleep. But he obviously wasn’t and she wondered how much he had seen.

Feeling guilty, she walked down the hall to his room. Shoving his door open, she saw him sprawled across his bed on his stomach, his face pressed into his crossed arms.

“Tommy, why weren’t you in bed like you were suppose to be?” she asked.

“Fuck you, whore!” Tommy said, his voice not as angry as before. “I go to bed when I damn well feel like it.”

“Tommy, don’t you use that language with me!” Connie said sharply. “Do you want me to ground you, young man?”

“Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!” he said, his voice rising with each word.

Connie knew he had seen enough to upset him. She wanted to go to him, to comfort him, to try and explain things to him. But what could she say?

“I saw you in that car, whore!” Tommy said, turning his face to glare at his mother, tears in his young eyes. “I saw everything, too. You’re just a fucking whore, Mom, a cock-sucking whore!”

Although her legs were rubbery and weak, Connie walked to her son’s bed, sitting on the edge. She reached for him, wanting to touch him. But Tommy drew away.

“Tommy, stop this,” she said, her voice gentle. “You don’t have to be so angry with me. You’re old enough to know things like that happen between men and women.”

Tommy pressed his face into his arms and she sat there watching his small body shake. The waist of his pyjamas had slipped down a little and she saw the starting of his ass. Her eyes followed the curve of his spine and stopped where she could just see the beginning of his ass crack. She noticed the cheeks of his ass were bunching up, loosening, then bunching again.

“Men and women may do that, Mom,” he said, “but do they do that with their own brother?”

“Tommy,” she whispered, “listen to me a minute. Please, honey, don’t act this way.”

Tommy turned his head so he could see his mother. “I saw what you were doing with Uncle Mike, Mom. How could you do that? He’s your brother!”

Connie had nothing to say. She didn’t know how to tell her son that she and her brother had been fucking since they were very young. How could she explain to her son that she and her brother had explored almost every aspect of erotic enjoyment with each other? How could she tell her son she had longed for her brother all the years she was married? How could she tell her son she loved her brother more than any man in the world?

“Whore! Fucking whore!” Tommy said, his voice low and bitter. “Mom, you’re just a cock-sucking whore!”

“No, baby,” she whispered softly, resting her palm on the middle of his back. “I’m your mother and there are things you don’t know about, things you don’t understand.”

“I understand everything,” Tommy said. “I saw you leaning down in the car, getting fucked in the mouth. I saw you open your legs so Uncle Mike could fuck you. I heard everything you two said.”

She felt her son’s body trembling under her hand. She began to caress his back, stroking slowly and tenderly.

“I’m sorry you saw that,” she whispered. “We should have been more careful. But since you did see us, we have to talk about it, Tommy.”

“No, we don’t!” he cried out. “I don’t want to hear anything you have to say! Go suck Uncle Mike’s cock, you fucking whore!”

Anger flared in Connie. She pulled her hand from him and stood up, forgetting her torn blouse. “Now you just listen to me, young man!” she snapped. “Just who do you think you are, coming on so strong? Don’t you think I know about you jerking off all the time? I’ve seen it on your sheets almost every morning! So you just listen to me, you little jack-off artist!”

Tommy whirled on the bed, glaring up at his mother. He had never heard her say anything like that before and he was surprised that she knew that he had been pounding his cock. Connie’s anger flared in her eyes as she stared down at him, her hands on her hips. Then she saw he had a hard-on.

His cock strained up against his pyjama bottoms, making a tent. For a long moment, neither could say anything. Then Connie began to giggle.

“Look at that,” she said, pointing to his hard-on. “You’re so hard you’re about to squirt! And then you call me names!”

Tommy started to hide his hard-on, then stopped.

“Me?” he said. “Mom, you’re standing there with your tits almost showing, coming in from fucking your own brother, and you laugh because I have a hard-on?”

“I’m not laughing,” she said softly. “I’m not laughing at all, Tommy.”

Connie wasn’t too surprised to find herself reacting to her son this way. Her cunt swelled, her clitoris starting to strain tautly. Her eyes widened with heat as she gazed at his upstanding cock, seeing the head pressing at his pyjamas, a moist spot starting where his piss hole was. She felt a quiver between her thighs and then wetness dripped out of her cunt. The cheeks of her ass clenched and she ran her tongue over her lips unconsciously.

She knew her hands were moving, taking her blouse off, but she couldn’t seem to stop them. She stared hard at his cock as she dropped her blouse, standing there wearing only a skirt and bra, garter belt and nylons, her heels still on her feet. Tommy stared at her, hardly breathing, wondering what his mother was doing. Connie stopped herself when she wanted to reach for the hook in front of her bra. She dropped her hands and balled them into tight fists, pressing them at her hips tightly.

The silence between mother and son was thick and Connie’s cunt swelled and burned. The thoughts in her mind tormented her, making her shake. Her tits jiggled, ready to burst from her bra.

Tommy was the first to move.

He shoved his pyjama bottoms down, all to way to his knees.

Connie gasped. His young cock stood up straight and hard, the head exposed and shining with wetness. His young balls so tight and full. She moaned and clenched her fists tighter, her knees shaking. There was a lurching feeling in her cunt.

Tommy closed a fist about his cock.

“Don’t,” Connie whispered, her eyes burning in his prick.

Tommy moved his fist.

“Don’t Tommy,” she moaned. “Please, baby, don’t do that.”

“I can if I wanna,” he replied, his eyes on her swelling tits. “I can do it if I wanna do it. If you can fuck Uncle Mike in the car, I can jerk off if I wanna jerk off.”

“God, Tommy, don’t! Please, honey ... that’s making...”

Tommy pushed and pulled on his cock unabashedly, staring at her filled bra, seeing the creamy swell of his mother’s tits. He squeezed his cock and the head bulged, his piss hole opening. Beads of liquid formed on his piss hole and Connie stood breathless, her knees shaking badly, her cunt throbbing as if it had not been fucked in years.

Tommy pumped his cock, his breathing deepening. Connie drew her eyes to his face, seeing how young he was, but how his erotic expression was barely controlled. She had no right to make him stop jacking off, she felt, no right at all.

But she didn’t want him to jack off - not right now.

“Tommy,” she said before she could stop herself, “please, let ... stop a minute, darling.”

She unclenched her right fist, moving her hand outward. Tommy made a gurgling sound and turned loose of his cock. Connie leaned over, her hand hovering near his prick. She was sure she felt the heat of his cock on her palm and, with a soft cry, closed her fingers around her son’s cock. His cock was only about half the size of her brother’s but it was so hard and pretty and ready. The size of a cock made no difference to Connie. She loved them all.