I’m Ronnie. I’m sixteen, just under six feet tall, 185 pounds and I get embarrassed when I’m told that I’m ruggedly handsome. I’m a straight A+ student with a serious nature and, because I don’t act or talk the way people expect a sixteen year old to, everyone treats me as if I’m four or five years older than I actually am. Even my sister, Mary Ann, a year older than I am, gives me deference ... like I’m her older brother.

I’ve always been an honor student and, by the luck of genetics, I’m unnaturally strong. In third grade, when the fourth grade schoolyard bully picked me to be his victim and started beating up on me, I literally beat the crap out of him and sent him to the nurse’s office to be patched up. His mom had to bring him a change of underwear and he ended up with the nickname “Patches” for a long time because of all the Band-Aids and little pieces of tape that he had on his face when he came back from the nurse’s office. Since then, no one’s messed with me or my friends.
Actually, the bully gave up on being a bully and grew up being a good guy with a lot of friends. He must have figured out that if I could whip his ass and didn’t use my strength to take advantage of the other kids, why couldn’t he do things the same way and have friends who aren’t afraid of him, like I did? Though I never intervened when two guys were having a real fight, the bully wannabees that I heard about were ‘talked to’ and, using the direct approach, were convinced that it was in their best interest to cease and desist.

I’d learned, early on, that the school officials don’t have the balls to actually do anything effective. They just talk, threaten and schmooze whoever they’re dealing with ... parent, student or guardian, until a student or teacher gets raped, beaten or killed. Then they can wash their hands of the ‘problem’ and turn it over to the Courts that work with their hands tied, too ... or at least with the scum of slimy lawyers all over them. My way stops the problem before it becomes one.

Now, after two years of regularly working out with the professional weight set that my dad left behind when he left our mother, my seventeen year old sister and me, my body definition is better than those guys they use for the photos in top name jock sportswear catalogs.

I remember that Mom was devastated when dad moved in with his secretary, who is ten years younger than she is. Mom’s vengeance soon came because his new living arrangement lasted for less than a year when his girlfriend got another job and told him to move out of her apartment. Several months later, he’d come back and tried to make up with Mom but she told him that he was too old for her, telling him that, not long after he’d left her she’d started seeing a man who’s about the same age as his former secretary/girlfriend. In a shy sounding voice, she’d told him, “Another benefit is that he has a huge ... uh ... you know ... appendage. It’s really long, too.” she’d added, almost giddily. “The kids don’t know about him but we’ve been with each other regularly for almost a year and he’s always there when I need him. I can’t tell him ... I can’t ... He’s a nice guy and I really like being with him. And after what you did to me? No ... I won’t do that.”

She gave him a bright ‘Sorry, Charlie.’ grin ... thanked him for forcing her to rediscover how great sex was when she was younger and firmly closed the door in his face.

Even before the door was fully closed, her ‘grin’ had vanished ... the bright facade crumbled. Just as the latch clicked into place, she started to cry.

She didn’t know that I was home when that happened or that I’d seen and heard what she said but I knew for a fact that she hadn’t gone out once in the last two plus years. Hearing the way she was crying confirmed that she was still hurting from what Dad had done to her, so she must have planned what she’d said to him as a way to hurt HIM if he ever asked to come back.

From the way she was crying, I realized that it must have taken everything she had to keep a straight face while putting on that act for Dad and telling him that crap about her non-existent lover ... I’d wanted to go to her but I wasn’t sure if I should intrude so I’d soundlessly slipped back to my room and closed the door.

Mom had started working out with the weights about three months after I did. Of course she didn’t handle as much weight but she did repetitions and it’d paid off big time ... not that she was in really bad shape to begin with. She’d only had to lose fifteen pounds or so and tone up. She’d done that and kept at it.

For about five months, I’ve seen her referencing what looks like a loose-leaf manual. If I’m around when she’s reading it, she acts nervous ... almost secretive ... as if she’s guarding it from me ... and always keeps it in her room. I don’t know what it is but I noticed that its cover is blank and I’m sure as hell curious.
Two days ago, she was reading something in it and I saw a smug expression come over her face. I decided that, the next time she’s out, I’m going to her room and taking a peek at that manual to see what’s in it. (which I did, the next day, and was surprised at what I learned motivates my mother)

Mom’s a beautiful woman with a pleasant disposition and has always had a M.I.L.F. body but ever since she’s trimmed down and toned up, all my buddies regularly ‘drop by’ to see me ... and to sneak peeks and drool at her tight, magnificently rounded thirty four year old bubble butt and try to not get caught staring at her firm, medium diameter projectile boobs. Having what I think is above average intelligence, I’ve long since concluded that my dad is one of the World’s dumbest assholes.

My pretty sister, Mary Ann, had picked up on the competition for attention and had started working out, too, so I’ve had two fine inspirations for masturbation. The difference is that Mary Ann dates and Mom doesn’t. Mom hasn’t dated or been with anyone since dad left. I know she gets hit on all the time. It doesn’t matter whether were in the supermarket or a restaurant. Some of the men do it right in front of their wives ... which illustrates their real lack of class. When that happens, Mom puts them down cold, with a line like, “Your wife must be really proud of having a husband with so little class that he openly disrespects her. I used to have one just like you ... He was a loser, too.” and walked away.

When it’d happened again this afternoon, I’d stepped over next to her, casually put my arm around her waist and said, “Are there enough hots and burgers in the freezer for the kids’ party this weekend, honey?” From the surprised expression on her face, I thought she was going to pee her pants but she quickly recovered and said, “Yes, Baby. After we showered, I checked while you were getting dressed.” Then she casually leaned in against me.

When I looked over at the guy, with a decidedly unfriendly expression, he looked very uncomfortable. His wife smirked. She’d liked that ... and then started sizing me up. I knew that Mr. Hotshot had trouble on his horizon. If she hadn’t already done it, somewhere down the road, she was going to even the score with him ... and he’d probably never know it.

On the way home, I kept thinking about mom’s answer in the store. She’d suggested that the two of us had taken a shower together. My thick nine and a quarter inch cock started to swell down the leg of my boxers. She’d popped right out with it ... just as casually as if it’d been the truth. Does she really think of me that way? Wow!! I pulled my foot back toward the seat so she wouldn’t see the swelling in the leg of my jeans ... But maybe I shouldn’t hide it ... I pushed my foot back to the floorboard ... straightening my leg.

I remembered how her voice sounded when she told Dad she was seeing a younger guy with a huge appendage that was really long, too. She’d said it to hurt him but could it also mean she’d always wished he’d had a bigger one? I’d seen his piss hard on, one morning. I have him beat by well over three inches in length and a good half to three quarters of an inch in thickness...
Then I got to thinking ... I wondered if Mom knows it. I often sleep naked and sometimes, when I get too warm, I throw the covers off. Had she ever come in to put laundry away while I was sleeping and seen me with a hard on?

With my semi-hard cock, I sat with my leg straight out, looking out the side window. Then I thought... ‘What if seeing that I have a big one scares her?’ I looked forward and began to pull my foot back to the seat again. At the same time, in my peripheral vision, I saw that Mom’s face was turned slightly toward me and she was looking down at my lap. She kept looking at it until I’d pulled my foot all the way back to where my leg hid my cock from her view before she looked up and back out the windshield. A surge of excited blood went into my cock. She hadn’t been just glancing ... she’d been LOOKING ... her eyes fixed on the spot where swelling was. A few seconds later, I saw her shift in her seat ... then press her thighs together as she pushed her butt forward ... I’ve done my homework and THAT was a fuck motion!!

Giving the appearance of looking straight forward, I pushed my feet all the way to the engine compartment, raised my ass off the seat and streeeeetcched. In my peripheral vision, Mom’s eyes went back to and locked onto the bulge in my jeans. After holding the stretch for a few

seconds longer, I let myself down, kept my left leg straight where the bulge of my hard on would show, then turned my head and looked out the side window.

That’s when I heard a very soft moan. That’s also when I made a decision. Mom is going to service and be serviced by an intruder, after Mary Ann has gone to her room for the night. I continued looking out the side window ... my thick cock now fully hard and throbbing. Mom is a very intelligent woman who wouldn’t miss knowing what I was thinking about and who was making me hard. Still looking out the side window, I said, “I love you, Mom.” There was a catch in her voice when she quietly answered, “I love you, too, Ron.” When I looked over, I saw her faint smile, as she looked out the windshield. Her face was definitely flushed and her thighs were squeezed tightly together. Occasionally, she squirmed and pushed forward in her seat. (involuntary fuck motions)

By the time we got home, I picked up the same scent that had surrounded me and each of the nine girls that I’d sneaked into one of the enclosed storage areas under the school auditorium stage and fucked their tight pussies full of cum. Even with her clothes on, Mom was giving off the same scent. She’d been too long without sex and, after our unspoken exchange on the way home, she’d seen and realized that she has a solution ... one that clearly excites her ... one that’s dangerous ... which makes it even more exciting ... but the need is so great ... and who’ll ever know?

When the groceries had been put away, Mom was quiet ... just moving around the house, doing minor housework. When she started dinner, I came up behind her, wrapped my arms around her, hugged her close to me and started planting soft, gentle kisses on the back of her neck.

She shivered and leaned back into me. She knew. I kissed her neck again ... this time wetly ... and whispered, “I love you, Mom.” I felt her knees almost buckle. If the front of the sink cabinet hadn’t been there to stop them and I hadn’t been holding onto her, she probably would have gone to the floor. There’s no way she didn’t feel and know that my fully hard cock was pressed between the firm cheeks of her ass. Her voice sounded breathless as she answered, “I ... I love you, too, Ron ... very much.”

When she was stable again, I leaned around and gently kissed the side of her neck, just under her ear, causing her to shiver mightily, before I moved away and went to my room. Mary Ann is due home shortly and I didn’t want her to walk in to see Mom on the kitchen table with her legs wrapped around me, fiercely pulling me into herself and screaming at me to pump every drop of my cum into her pussy.

Ten minutes later, Mary Ann came home with one of her hot girl friends and asked if she could stay for dinner. I know Janet’s hot because I’d taken her cherry under the auditorium stage and had also fucked her there on multiple other occasions. Bad timing ... she started coming on to me at the table. Even Mary Ann said something about it. Janet has a tight, juicy pussy and fucks like a rabbit. She starts cumming and just keeps cumming until I unload in her. She loves when I fuck her without a condom. She must know she’s safe and is trying to telegraph it to me. I looked over at mom and she knew. Mary Ann didn’t get it, though. She thought that Janet was just flirting.

I had to discourage Janet so I said, “Mom, I still have that headache from when we were shopping. Have you got anything stronger than Ibuprophen?”

Mom picked up and said, “I have some Vicodin. I’ll get you one after we’re finished eating. OK?”

“Thanks. After I take it I think I’ll go see if I can sleep it off.”

“Good idea, honey.” I saw the disappointment on Janet’s face and so did Mom. In fact, so did Mary Ann but it didn’t register with her. She just babbled on about calling her latest boyfriend.

When we were done eating, I put my dishes in the sink and asked Mom for the Vicodin. She went to her room and brought the bottle to the bathroom. When I waved it off she smiled, stepped out in front of the doorway and announced that the pill would take twenty minutes to a half hour to kick in. She screwed the lid back on and took the bottle b

ack to her room.

We’d had a late dinner so I took a long cool shower and then went to my room. It wasn’t long before Janet left. I heard Mary Ann tell mom that she was going to take a shower, get ready for bed and watch a video in her room. Mom answered that she was tired ... that it’d been a long day and that she was going to bed early, too. Her room is across from mine. A few minutes later, I heard her bedroom door close. Her bedroom and mine are at the end of the house and her bedroom’s bathroom backs up to my closet so I heard her shower come on. She was getting ready. I looked at my clock. It was only 8:45. I couldn’t remember Mom ever getting ready for bed that early ... At 8:58, the shower turned off. I knew she had to dry her hair and other stuff so I waited. At 9:20, I figured she was ready so I moved to my door and silently opened it.

My heart was pounding with excitement. I started having second thoughts. What if I was mistaken? I stood there looking out into the dark hallway toward my mother’s bedroom door. Leaning forward and looking back down to the other end of the hallway, on the other side of the main bathroom that separated my room from Mary Ann’s, I could see light from her TV screen flickering under the door and hear the muted sound of whatever movie she was watching. I wasn’t worried about her coming to Mom’s room, unless there was a burglar or the house was on fire. When she went into her room, she was there for the duration. I looked back at Mom’s door and remembered this afternoon ... remembered her staring at my swollen cock in the car ... her resultant fuck motions ... then what happened at the kitchen sink ... how she’d acted at the dinner table ... the pretend passing of the Vicodin afterward and the fact that she never goes to bed this early. I’m not mistaken. She’s waiting for me. I felt lightheaded as I stepped forward, reached for her doorknob and slowly turned it. It wasn’t locked.