Chapter 4

The rest of the drive home was very quiet.

Judy did not try to break in on her son's thoughts. If he had to sort all this out in his mind, if he needed any help or explanations from her, he would ask. And until he asked, she would not interfere.

The one thing she hoped, desperately, was that he was not ashamed of fucking her. That would destroy her, she felt. If her son hated her or was disgusted by her and turned away now that she had revealed her innermost desires to him, it would destroy her completely.

This desire to be forced into sex was something not many people knew about. Once her ex-husband had learned of it, he had been unable to cope and so she was no longer married. Judy would not have told Johnny if his father had not tried to turn him from her. She would have gone on being in love with her own son and suffered in total silence.

Was this wild, raging desire to be abused and degraded and forced to perform those deviant sexual things about to turn Johnny from her, too? Why did she have to be forced into doing those things? Why couldn't she be like other women, like other mothers? Why couldn't she be turned on in the so-called proper way? What was this driving need to be made to do those things? Judy knew that if she wasn't forced, wasn't told to do them, sex was no fun for her.

Judy drove into the long lane leading up to their old, weather- beaten clap-board house. Old, but very well taken care, the home had been in her family for generations. It was now hers, and she had moved into it after her divorce. Johnny loved the place. It was out in the open, at the edge of the desert. It was hot, but the heat was dry, easy to take. The ground was fertile and she had plenty of water. Tall, graceful trees surrounded the house, helping to cool it. There was a wide expanse of lawn with a grape arbor. The arbor had been constructed with a sprinkling system throughout, and Judy loved being inside it on very hot days, the cooling mist keeping her body cool and comfortable.

Behind the house was a small but thriving garden of vegetables. There were also a couple of fruit trees, old but still productive and very beautiful.

She parked at the side of the house beneath an ancient oak. Johnny was out of the car before she had time to set the brake, and she watched him disappear into the house before she had closed her car door.

Troubled, she entered behind him. The door led through a huge, farm-sized kitchen and into a living room. At one wall was a stone fireplace huge enough for a man to stand inside of. The furniture was modern and comfortable.

Her room was off the living room, and she went into it and removed her clothing. She stood naked, the door of her bedroom left open with her son in the house for the first time. She lifted her shapely tits in her hands, looking down at them, seeing the shape was as good as any saucy-titted young girl's. Her waist was still narrow, her stomach still flat. Her hips were rounded, but still like a teenaged girl's hips.

Her legs were long, tantalizingly smooth, and very well tanned. Her ass jutted out in a teasing way, the cheeks rippling tightly when she walked. The dark patch of hair at the base of her stomach was curly and very thick. The lips of her cunt were not fat, but they weren't slim, either. They were puffy, always puffy, swelling with the heat that tormented her. Judy's cunt was tight, very tight.

She was fortunate, she thought, to have such a tight cunt. It could clamp hard on a slim cock or a thick one, and each prick could excite and thrill her equally. The size of a cock meant nothing to her, she loved all sizes. Her clitoris was long and extremely sensitive. A touch, even a very light touch, would send her cunt into steamy desire and throw her mind into an eager, lewd willingness to do anything her partner wanted of her -- if he told her to do it.

But it was important that he tell her, make her, force her.

She found her shorts and halter and cupped her tits into the halter and tied it between her shoulder blades. Then she stepped into the shorts, zipping them up in back. The shorts were cut high on her hips, exposing more thigh than most shorts and making her legs look even longer. Sliding her feet into a pair of thongs, she left her room and passed through the living area and into the kitchen. She found a frosted beer in the refrigerator and uncapped it. She leaned against the huge, oak table and sipped it, wondering what was wrong with her son.

His shuffling feet made her lift her head. Johnny came in wearing his usual faded cutoff jeans. Seeing his mother sipping a beer, he opened one for himself. He had never drunk beer in front of her before, but she knew he had had one or two on very hot days.

She looked at him, seeing his handsome face, his hair curling at his neck. He was as tanned as she was, his flesh brown from the sun.

When half his beer was gone, he set the bottle on the counter near the sink and faced her, his arms crossed over his broadening chest. He looked at her unflinchingly.

"You really meant it, didn't you, Mother?"

"Mean what, Johnny?"

"About being made... you know, forced, to do those things we did on the way home."

"I was truthful with you, honey."

"But why, Mother?" he asked. "Why me?"

"Because... because..." she paused as she kept her gaze steady on his eyes. "Johnny, the most important thing about it is that I... I love you."

"I know that, Mother."

"I mean, like a man, not just as if you were my son," she said. "I love you the way a woman would -- should -- love a man. I love you in every way a woman is supposed to love her man, and I want you for my man."

He looked at her for a long time. Then he said, "But I have to force you and make you do it?"

"That's the only way I enjoy it, Johnny."

"The only way?"

She nodded, finishing her beer. Johnny reached out and took the bottle from her, setting it next to his unfinished one.

"You'll do anything... as long as I make you do it? Anything at all, no matter what it is?"

"That's right."

"And you'll enjoy it?"

"I'll love it, love every second of it," she admitted again to him.

"You mean rape?"

She shook her head, her hair dancing. "No, that's too violent. No, never use rape on me, baby. Just touch me... here," she cupped her tits. "Or here." She ran a hand between her thighs. "Then I'll do anything for you. All you have to do is tell me to do it, and I'll go wild with desire."

"You mean, if I say 'Mother, kiss my ass, ' you will?"

She nodded again, her eyes growing hot. "That's what I mean."

He looked at her for a long time. "All I have to do is say kiss my ass and you get hot?"

"So hot I come sometimes," she said without shame.

"Did you now?"

"No, but my cunt started tingling."

"Why didn't you come?"

"Because we're just talking about it," she responded. "If you meant it -- if I knew you meant it -- I'd be coming by now, and so wild with the desire to kiss your ass, you couldn't get your cut-offs down fast enough for me."

Johnny fell silent, and she perched her rounded ass on the edge of the oak table, swinging a slender foot gently back and forth, watching him... waiting.

"Then, Mother, we could have a hell of a ball, couldn't we?" he said, grinning at her. "I mean, I can have everything I want, can't I? I can make you do anything? You'll do what I tell you to do?"

"And love it, darling," she murmured, her pulse racing again with anticipation.

He had come off three times this afternoon, and she wondered if he had the strength to come once more. He was young -- very young -- and boys his age, because it was so new and exciting and erotic, managed to maintain a beautiful hard-on for a long time and come and come and come!

"Yes, I'd love to do what you tell me. I'll be your fuck-slave, Johnny. I'll be the dream you and every kid your age dreams of... the kind of woman you visualize when you jack off, but can never find. I'll be your whore, your cunt, your cock-sucker. I'll be anything you want me to be... but remember, you have to make me do it."

Johnny grinned at his mother and she glanced at his cut-offs. His cock was lifting, starting to bulge out again.

"What if you changed your mind, Mother? I mean, what if I told you to do something you didn't want to do?"