Chapter 3

So that’s how it went from then on. Mom teased me with her legs almost every night but only allowed me to get off on her when she wanted me to. I visited her several times at night when she wouldn’t have anything to do with me, leaving me standing like a naked dork in the middle of her bedroom. Mom never came to my room, though I waited in vain for a reprieve each time she rejected me. Several times, I skipped out from school and Mom wouldn’t have anything to do with me. Sexually, that is. She was quite pleasant otherwise. It took me weeks to figure it out. Once I did, I couldn’t believe it had taken me that long. Duh!

Every time I managed to get Mom to let me come on her, whether in her bedroom at night as Dad slept, or at home when I was skipping out of school, Mom had found some excuse to slap my face. Thinking back, a slap in the face was a guaranteed indicator that I was going to get my rocks off on her that night or the next day if I stayed home. However, try as I might, I couldn’t figure out how to induce a good hard slap in the face.

That is, until I accidently fell upon one sure-fire method. I knew that I had succeeded with Mom every time I dripped something on her legs while the three of us read or watched TV in the family room. Mom had stopped allowing root beer or hot chocolate in the room on the excuse that some had spilled and stained the couch. This led me to my first insight.

I found a way to drip on Mom that wasn’t messy but worked like a charm. One evening, sitting like we normally did with Mom and I on the loveseat, I stretched my hand over and laid it on Mom’s lap, dangling between her legs. Mom predictably moved her book to block Dad’s view should he look our way and I pulled my hand back, dragging her skirt with it.

I suspect Mom thought I was going to tickle her pussy with my finger and I knew she was ready for some action that night just by allowing me to get so near. However, the look of shock on her face that followed my next move let me know she would be mine any night I repeated this little trick. Want to know what I did?

I squirted hot water directly onto Mom’s panties with the dropper I had hidden in my palm. The muscles tensed in her legs and she almost lifted her hips off the seat. I drained the dropper in a second squirt that produced a similarly dramatic effect. While Mom’s legs were still quivering, I set the flask of hot water I had hidden under my shirt against the outside of her hip between us, retracted my shooting hand, and refilled the stopper. Slipping my hand under Mom’s skirt, I waited ... and waited.

Finally, I gave her what I knew she was craving: a little shot of hot water. Mom’s hips jerked and her hands clenched. I pulled my hand out of her skirt a little and released a few drops on the inside of each of her upper thighs, then moved back into position with the dropper hovering over her panties. I waited two minutes before I basted her pussy with another squirt. When her legs had stopped quivering, I let the tip of the dropper nestle in the soaking wet groove defining her slit and slowly dragged it down and off. Refilling, I made the next dropper last for five minutes, and the next more than ten.

That night, while Dad was getting ready for bed, Mom emerged from her room to accost me in the hallway as I made my way to my room. She delivered a particularly hard slap, after which I suffered for more than an hour in my room alone with the hardest boner I’d ever produced, waiting to visit Mom.

She was lying on the floor on her tummy with her buttocks and thighs already greased up, waving that magnificent lure as soon as she heard me step stealthily into the room. Mom loved it that way, even more than rubbing my cock along her slick pussy from the front, which surprised me. As I approached, she actually purred in anticipation which should have goaded me into immediate action, but I had a plan.

I ran my hands all over Mom’s body, from head to toe, trying to convey the awe in which I held her beauty. I scraped and scratched, poked and prodded, rubbed and tickled every inch of skin on Mom’s body, all the while whispering sweet comments and love words. Only then did I prepare to mount her from behind but instead, after a pause, I began repeating everything I had done, this time with my tongue. I uttered every compliment I could think of, however corny.

Licking her tits, I mumbled, “I love your breasts. They’re the best I’ve ever kissed.”

Sucking her nipples, I gurgled, “These are the sexiest, stiffest nipples a man could ever dream of.”

Nibbling her ear, I whispered, “I love putting my tongue in your ear, your mouth, and down there,” of course, flicking her pussy lips with my fingers as I spoke. She hadn’t yet let me do that and I hoped the thought of it would make her hot to trot.

“Your hair is so beautiful. It smells so good and I love pulling it when my cock is rubbing your ass.”

Anything. I said anything I could think of that was laden with sexual innuendo. If words implied lust inspired by her extreme beauty, they tumbled out of my mouth. Of course, I made sure my tongue and fingers continued to do their work.

Eventually, I succeeded. Mom writhed and moaned so intensely I worried about Dad waking up but there wasn’t anything I could do about that. I hoped, as I suspected, that Mom was giving Dad something to help him sleep deeply on the nights she decided to slap me. I knew now that, despite my failure to predict when it would happen, Mom’s slaps signaled that she was horny and wanted it. All I was doing was tipping her over the edge, hoping for her to lose control so I could have my way with her.

I pushed my face into her ass and licked up and down the crease splitting her cheeks. Soon, her tightly closed legs loosened, allowing my slick, probing pink snake to find and tease her nether lips and shortly thereafter slip between them into her cunt. This was the first time she had allowed such access to anything except my fingers, and then it had only been permitted on rare occasions. This time, she wanted it and didn’t disguise her need.

Mom’s ass twisted around on my face as I endeavored to plug my tongue inside her as far as I could. As her ass became more animated, I pulled out and teased her lips with sharp flicks of my tongue, then spread her cheeks and dragged my tongue across her asshole. Biting each cheek hard enough to produce a small yelp, I plunged my tongue back inside her cunt and wiggled it forcefully about. Five minutes of this and Mom was grunting like an animal. She was completely under my control, waiting to be taken.

Which I did. I rose up in a smooth movement and guided my cock into her hot, slick pussy, shoving in all the way in a single, long thrust. I had never felt anything so utterly wonderful. The sensations were devastating. No pussy had ever felt this good. I had found eternal bliss and made it mine.

Mom’s breath had expelled completely as I reached full penetration and I began a slow steady fuck. I had expected her to fight me once the surprise was over but Mom never complained or even tried to unhorse me. Her hands covered her head as if she was blocking out what was happening but she shoved her ass back to meet every thrust.

I had planned that, should I be so lucky to have gotten this far, I would deliver the longest and best fuck Mom had ever experienced but she was just too exciting. In no time, my thrusts gained speed and vigor until I was literally heaving against her ass and gasping loudly as if Dad wasn’t there. When I finally came, I discovered I was gripping her tits hard and biting the top of her shoulder, yet she had uttered not one word of complaint.

For the next two weeks, Mom slapped me a lot. On Tuesdays and Thursdays I stayed home for some morning fun. On Monday and Wednesday nights, I snuck into Mom’s room and took her on the floor. On the weekend, we managed to get a couple of hours on both Saturday and Sunday.

The nights were my favorite because that’s when Mom let me fuck her on the floor beside the bed. She preferred lying on her side with her tits twisted onto the floor and her hips leaning just enough for her knee to rest on the carpet. Her ass looked larger that way, like a big heart, its roundness emphasized by the flare of her buttocks compared to her narrow waist. She always looked over her shoulder at me until I began to lose control. Then she turned toward the floor and pushed her ass up to meet every thrust with greater force.

I didn’t particularly like always taking Mom from behind. That’s not why I preferred the nights, nor was it the thrill of having Mom with Dad sleeping a few feet away. In fact, that always made me nervous more than anything else. I worried that he might wake up, despite Mom’s cavalier attitude, and wondered if she actually got off on doing it in front of him, so to speak, as some sort of payback for something that happened in the past — banishing Guido, for example. I worried even more that Dad was actually awake and pretending to be asleep while his own son took his woman. That thought bothered me a lot so I tried to push it out of my mind whenever it occurred. Mind you, it didn’t bother me enough to stop fucking Mom right next to him.

No, the real reason I preferred the nights was because during the day Mom absolutely insisted on me coming on her before she would let me get inside her. It was a real trip at first, hovering over Mom, cock in hand and hosing her with my cum, but I tired of it soon enough. I preferred being inside her, the feel of her tummy and breasts against me, our limbs aligned and straining together toward a mutual release, joined, my cock ensconced in her velvetty, wet, pulsating cunt.

I also liked whispering sexy things to Mom and the intimate moments we shared after we came and the quiet way we were together downstairs after sex. It wasn’t the same after spraying her with my waste, and the intimacy I so craved evaporated faster than my cum dried on Mom’s skin. I grew to hate spilling my seed on her, especially on her face, despite her obvious relish of that once spurned treat.

Why? Why did she like to be demeaned that way? I didn’t want to be a part of it any longer.

So, on the third Monday I stayed home. We ate breakfast together and I pretended to get ready to leave for school but as soon as Dad left, I grabbed Mom’s hand and began walking toward the stairs with her in tow.

“I have to work, Robert.”

“Not today,” I replied, starting up the stairs.

“Robert, we can’t. We have responsibilities. Maybe tonight, or tomorrow.”

“No. Today. Now.”

I had dragged Mom halfway up the stairs. She stumbled and I paused while she removed her heels before they broke.

“Robert,” she started to speak again but I dragged her the rest of the way up the stairs.

“What’s come over you?” Mom asked. Beneath her exasperation I detected elation that I couldn’t wait to have her.

“You. You’ve come over me,” I answered, dragging Mom down the hall, loving the sound of her nylons whisking between her legs. She had to break out into a trot to keep up with me.

At her bed, I turned around and faced Mom, planting a kiss on her lips before she could speak. The kiss was long and hard, leaving us both breathing quickly. I was undoing her blouse when she finally found words.