Chapter 3

I’d had an easy day with college studies and got back home early, with time enough to relax in the shower and think on where I was at with Mother; or should I be saying ‘ mommy ‘? Because Mother and ‘mommy’ are like chalk from cheese. Mother left in her car for the office mornings - ‘mommy’ came to play with me some evenings.

Under the warm shower I began wondering if I’d become my Mothers ‘toy-boy’? Or should I say mothers toy cock? I took hold and looked at my cock; ‘mommy’ certainly had worked wonders on it and no mistake!

I’d glanced at my college chums in the shower and they were nowhere near as ‘develloped ‘ as me! How it had stood up to her demands on it god only knows! And some of those demands were bloody sadistic. Beneath the foreskin were some brutal scars; and my nuts hung like a fully grown man. I smile proudly and began giving the old todger a soft massage.

Pondering on it, maybe her sex-games were satisfing an unconcious desire for sex with underaged boys? She had always been eager to come pick me up at junior-high; often chatting-up and fooling with my chums in the yard? ... She always wore perfume too?

Most men drool at the prospect of breaking-in a school-girl, maybe mother had that desire with schoolboys? All that was needed was the right circumstance and a willing participant?

Under the shower my right hand had been occupied with my cock which had moved from soft lob, through semi-hard and was now reaching solid wood as I figured out how Mom an me had got it together.

Mother was a company executive, giving those arround her guidence, rather than recieving comforting gestures from others. We haden’t been there before. I’d sat there feeling awkward before she turned to me to softly share the source of her sorrow.

She had taken my hand to convey our shared sorrow of losing father and sipping the wiskey while describing her loney nights of being widowed. I took this to mean loveless nights. Then she stunned me by revealing she’d known about me sneaking-in and staining her panties! ... But I was more amazed still when she added that it had really turned her on; but I was to young for her then?

My mind raced with questions ... had she been impressed with the amount of my cum? Would she have wanted sex with me had I been a bit older? Had she ever frigged off over me?

When she’d discovered my spunk jerked into her panties, it had triggered her fantasy of sex with an underaged boy; and I had offered it to her on a plate in the comfort of her own home! My hand was shafting quicker as the vineigar stroke began to build in my balls. I could now imagine her masturbating as a sex-starved widow, needing a lad with a large cock to satifiy her!

And as she did this, I would have been asleep in the room next to her!

She would have fought against coming to my bedroom to satisfiy those urges! But what am I thinking! ... Maybe she could not stop herself - maybe the urge was too strong; and with a sleeping tab to my bedtime drink, had come and uncovered me - her fingers softly stimulating the penis to expand whlle the boy slept. Then she’d relised she would have to bide her time with me.

Untill finally came that fatefull afternoon I’d found Mother alone at home, sobbing, over being dumpped by her man-friend. I can understand now, how the comforting from me were so eagerly recieved by her. It was the kind of intimacy she craved.