Chapter 2

Daniel Bennett's first sexual encounter was an act of oral sex, lovingly performed by his mother. After their first sexual encounter, Jenny left her son's room extremely pleased and satisfied. There were remnants of her son's ejaculate in her mouth, lightly coating her throat. Had she climaxed? No, she had not. Did the familiar sensations of orgasm place her in the paroxysms of ecstatic release with which she was no stranger? No, that didn't happen either. That would come a little later, when she showered while remembering her son's cock being very deeply embedded in her throat and the sensations she experienced while she made love to his penis. His ejaculation had nearly sent her over the edge, but not quite.

Jenny was one of those girls who learned quite early in life how to deliver a toe-curling blowjob and there was little more in the sexual world that she loved more. The sensation of having a penis deep in her throat was the epitome of sex for her. Although she loved outright intercourse, she seldom reached orgasm from screwing of any kind, no matter how a particular penis was delivered; whether it was from behind, on top, sideways, hanging from the ceiling or any other combination thereof, she seldom climaxed from intercourse, per se. No, she was virtually dependent upon clitoral stimulation for the culmination of her sexual pleasure. However, second only to her favored method was that of having a penis embedded deeply in her throat. She could climax that way, too.

It was very early in her relationship with her brother that she experienced the warmth of an orgasm without a bit of vaginal or clitoral stimulation. She was administering oral sex to him when she was fourteen, maybe early fifteen. His pants and underwear were down, exposing his penis and she was fully dressed in jeans and a light blouse. She knelt before him and administered the light kisses he loved so much to his erection. She gently cupped his testicles as she took more and more of his cock into her mouth, lathing it with her tongue, pressing it against her cheeks as she went farther and farther down the cock, toward its base. Her brother's hands rested, at first, gently on her head and he stood motionless as she ministered to him, her head bobbing on the divine treat.

As her brother became more excited, so she did. Her vagina began to secrete as it always did when she was even lightly stimulated and her clitoris became engorged. She was tempted to masturbate as she fellated but thought better of it and continued to provide all her attention to her brother. He was approaching completion. She could tell. His breath was coming more quickly, ragged and shallow, and his hands were forcing his penis in and out of her mouth with subdued abandon. Now, he was lightly forcing her to suck, moving her head on and off his cock with each of his short thrusts; she loved the sensation even though she knew she could withdraw at any time. In her fantasy, she was being forced to suck and even at fourteen, there was something deeply erotic about a man's hands on her head, or fingers curled in her hair, pulling and jerking, that excited her to her very core.

As her brother finally forced her mouth down on his turgid, pulsing boyhood, holding it around his cock, she buried her nose and lips in the soft curls of his pubic hair. She gently stroked his scrotum with her fingertips. She allowed her airway to be blocked for as long as he wanted, until he began to come. On this occasion, as her brother, began his eruption, so too, did she.

In a well practiced move between them, he withdrew only slightly so as not to choke her with his rather copious adolescent sperm. As he forcefully ejaculated into his little sister's mouth, her vagina flowed freely with her own orgasm and she shuddered slightly as she savored the milky sperm which had rapidly begun to fill her mouth. Her vagina felt warm and seemed to radiate heat throughout her loins as it had whenever her bother tickled, played with, licked or sucked her own genitals.

When he was finished pumping and he was spent, he stood motionless, staring at the ceiling in his little sister's bedroom, the ceiling fan turning lazily, his cock softening. She disengaged and sat back on her heels, her face turned upward to her brother. He looked down as she held her come filled mouth up to him, open. She formed her beautiful mouth into a delightful, small cauldron and pushed the slippery goo until it formed a small pool for her beloved brother.

"Wow," he said simply.

As much as she was able, Jenny nodded then pointed a finger at her mouth. Her brother immediately dipped a finger into her mouth and brought it to his own. He sucked and licked it clean, tasting his own sperm as his sister swallowed the rest of his libidinous fluid.

It was viscous and warm as she swallowed. She wanted it to slide effortlessly down her throat, and it did. She loved come. She swallowed lightly to chase the last traces of sperm down, inside her. Without looking, she knew she would have to change her panties and jeans before her mom and dad arrived home from work. The clothing was soaked through from her orgasm.

She stood and pecked her brother on the cheek.

"Damn, you're good at that, Jen," her brother said, awe in his voice.

She lowered her head and drew an imaginary line on the carpet with her toe. "Awww, shucks," she laughed when she looked at him again.

But, that was years ago. This was now.

Jenny contemplated the afternoon's events as she busied herself in the master bedroom next to her sleeping son's. His cock thrilled her. She hadn't had a penis in her mouth since her husband (and Danny's father) departed on his fourth deployment overseas. She thought he might be in Afghanistan or some other hell-hole, but she didn't know. She never knew for sure. All in all, her husband had been gone far more than he had been home over the previous sixteen years but Jenny wasn't concerned. She loved him and this was his mission, his calling. He was a freshly minted "light" colonel in the Marine Corps assigned to special ops— black ops— at Marine Corps Base, Camp Lejeune, North Carolina, although he seemed to never be there. He was always off somewhere, in some dark corner of the world.

Although his unit, Force Recon, had never achieved the recognition of the Navy's Seal Team 6, she knew he and his men had been involved in some really hairy stuff over the years, from Iraq to his current duty station. Although she picked up the 'scary shit' lingo from other Marine wives, her husband never really spoke of his activities to his family. The most he would offer were three words or phrases: "Walk-in-the-park" was easy; "Exciting" was dangerous; And "Absolutely fascinating" was mind-blowing bad. Her husband never, ever spoke of these missions, of course. He never told her or Danny of the danger he might, or might not, have been in. Those conversations were reserved for the Marines who were present at the action, and only those present. It was the ultimate "well, you had to be there." And, of course, there were security concerns.

Jenny brought herself to a light orgasm in the shower after having nearly achieved a full climax earlier with her son's penis in the depths of her throat. She was smiling as she toweled off until she was dry. She rigorously and liberally applied cocoa butter to every part of her body and stepped naked from the bathroom she shared with her son.

She went to her bedroom and purposely left the door open. For a moment, she considered being naked, as she was when her mouth was impaled on Danny's sex candy, but then thought it might be a little much considering what her son had just been through. She slipped on a pair of her most full, white cotton panties, then shorts. A tee shirt was all she utilized to cover her breasts. Underneath the thick cotton shirt, she tweaked her nipples and fluffed her small breasts a bit. She ran another brush through her luxurious dark hair and studied herself in the dresser mirror.

Jenny returned to the kitchen to re-start the dinner she abandoned earlier. She returned the burgers to the broiler, pulled salads from the fridge, and turned the burner under the chili to medium.

She left the kitchen, walked the few feet to her son's room and sat on his bed. He felt her and stirred.

The sheet blanket was down, around his waist and she placed a warm and tender hand on his naked chest. She did not speak until he opened his eyes.

"Hey, Boy-o," she greeted him, softly.

She watched as her son used two index fingers to slowly and simultaneously rub his eyelids.

"You ready for dinner?"

Daniel blinked a few times. "Not even," he said.

"Yeah, I know," Jenny agreed. "Even so, dinner will be ready in about fifteen. Grab some clothes. Wash your face. And wake up. Okay?"

"What time is it?" he asked, looking around for a clock.

"6:15" she answered simply.

"Wow," was all he could muster from his fog.

"I know," she answered, "but you have to get up or you won't be able to sleep tonight. Come on." When he didn't respond, she pinched one of his beautiful boy nipples and twisted.

"OW! Damn, Mom!"

"You awake?" she asked, laughing.

"GOD! YES! I'm awake! Jeez, Louise! What are you thinking?"

A long few minutes later, Danny plopped down on a chair in the small kitchen. His face was freshly scrubbed and his hair was combed but she could tell he had a few winks to go before he was completely awake. He was wearing shorts, a tee, and flip flops. Jenny served him with the salad, burgers, and chili and then sat across from her son.

They didn't speak for a moment until Jenny asked, "So, how was your day?"

Although this was a question his mother asked him nearly every evening at dinner, this time it was different. Earlier that afternoon, he first witnessed his mother masturbating and then, later, she performed oral sex on him as he lay naked on his bed.

"I'm confused," he said. "Well, a little, anyway," he added as he ate.

"I can imagine you are," his mother answered. "I threw a pretty major curve ball at you this afternoon."

"You threw two of 'em' actually."

Jenny laughed. "So I did. Tell me about the confusion."

"I don't know. It was a little weird to look down and my penis in my mother's mouth. I don't know, it was just a little strange."

"Yeah, I suppose it was," she agreed.

"You know," he started, "I've looked at you before. You know. Your body, I mean. But I don't think I've ever thought about sex with you."

"Really?" Jenny asked, somewhat incredulously, "because, I've been thinking about sex with you for over a year." There, she'd said it. "Does that creep you out?"

"No. No," he answered softly while they continued to eat. "I think I kind of like that thought. Am I your boy toy now?" he asked, laughing.

"Absolutely not, Danny," she answered, smiling with him. She took his hand. "No. You're not my boy toy. You're a young, highly attractive, handsome young man. I remember the first time I was attracted to your body. You were mowing the lawn in shorts and "tennies". It must have been late summer, because you were dark tan and even though you were young, you were starting to buff up."

Danny laughed out loud. "I'm not buff. Dad's buff, but I'm not."

"You and Dad are different. He's muscular. You're firm and hard. Dad is tall and fair skinned. You're darker, like me."

"So, I'm not going to be 6'3"?"

Jenny laughed. "The way you're growing, you might be!"

Danny was already an inch, or maybe two inches, taller than his mother's 5'6", so his Dad's height was certainly within reach. However, his dad was of strong, muscular Scandinavian stock with sandy brown hair and dark blue eyes. Danny had dark hair and eyes and possessed of a lithe, athletic body, just like his mother.

Danny was silent for a moment. "Are you going to tell Dad?"

Jenny was equally silent. "No."

They were both quiet.

"Are you ashamed of anything that happened today? Do you feel guilty about it?" Jenny asked.

He was quiet.

"No," he answered, finally.

They changed the subject and spoke of inconsequential things for the rest of dinner until they finished. Jenny asked her son to do the dishes, and then went into the bathroom. She brushed her teeth, as she always did after dinner, and returned to the kitchen. Danny was almost done with the dishes and was attacking the broiler pan with an SOS pad. Jenny pulled the bottle of brandy from under the sink and fished a real snifter from the top shelf in the glassware cupboard.

"Got homework?" she asked.

"A little. Not much."

"Okay, I'll finish this, You go do your homework."

After she finished the pots and pans, Jenny took her drink to the living room and curled up in the large, overstuffed chair in the corner of the small room, next to the lamp and end table. Even at 7:00 o'clock, in late April, it was still very light out; nonetheless she turned the switch on the light and began to browse the Vanity Fair she abandoned earlier.

A few minutes after 8:00, her son emerged from the bedroom and slumped down, on the couch. He flicked the TV on and surfed until he found a documentary on the local PBS channel.

"Done with homework?" she asked.

"Yeah. I've got a history test tomorrow," he said to no-one in particular. He removed a cushion from the back of the couch and propped it against the arm. He lay down and stretched out.

Jenny watched her son from a few feet away. The events of the afternoon were still fresh in her mind and the sensation of her son's penis deep in her maw, smothering her, was impossible to forget. Merely the thought of what she had done with her son earlier in the day excited her again.

In all the time she and her husband had been married, Jenny never cheated, until this afternoon when lust for her fourteen year old son was more than she could bear. She was unable to resist the sight of her son's beautiful erect penis, bobbing with each beat of his heart as she watched him. She remembered sucking him and the sensation of his semen erupting into her mouth, coating her throat to its very depths.

The sensory awareness of ejaculate cascading into her mouth never failed to excite her, from her earliest encounters with her brother over twenty years before, to this afternoon when her son erupted into her windpipe, or nearly into her windpipe, anyway. She remembered savoring the texture of the warm slippery fluid as it filled her cheeks and, as she had many times before, she nearly came to orgasm any time a boy or man dispensed his essence into her penis loving mouth.

She remembered a night in college, a long time ago, when she and some girlfriends were watching an old VHS copy of "Deep Throat", the porn movie made famous in the 70's with a premise that a woman, Linda Lovelace, possessed a clitoris in her throat and could reach climax merely by deeply sucking a cock, any cock.

Although Jenny knew it was impossible, she actually wondered if, perhaps, there was some mechanism in her throat that connected to the sensory synapses in her brain that responded to sex, for she had erupted in orgasm many times without vaginal or clitoral stimulation when a man or boy's penis was plunging into her throat, especially if the man was a tad bit rough with her.

Over the years, Jenny realized that she liked sex when it was somewhat rough. Not in a masochistic way, but in a rather indulgent service of the boy or man she was with. In other words, there was a certain stimulation to the very core of her being when a man used her mouth forcefully, either forcing her head down and holding it on his erect penis until he ejaculated, sometimes choking her to watery drops of tears in the process; or there was the slow and gentle process (well, except for the times she bit down on his shaft) with which she had engaged her son earlier in the day.

It excited her when she, as a person, was treated just a little bit poorly. She was never offended when someone called her names during sex, or 'talked dirty' to her while they were fucking as long as there were offsetting sessions of lovemaking and genuine affection, too.

In the twenty-two years since her first sexual encounter, she had been open for almost anything remotely having anything to do with sex and her experiences were more than a little varied. From the many things she tried over the years, she had rejected very few propositions or experiences.

As she reflected, she came to consider herself to be a woman on the 'cafeteria' plan for sexual escapades and as she remembered, she moistened slightly.

Jenny left the chair and walked into her bedroom. She dropped her shorts, removed her panties, and pulled the shorts back up and on. She left the clasp at the top of the fly unbuttoned. "Might as well make it easy," she thought, smiling, "if it goes there."

She returned to the living room, drew the sheer outer curtains closed, and stood at the side of the couch. "Move over a little?" she asked.

Danny wasn't certain what his mother had in mind but he did as she requested. His mother removed the remaining cushions on the couch, making room for two, and let them drop to the floor before she lay down next to her son. She snuggled against him, ostensibly to watch television, but the way she spooned her body to his suggested otherwise. Her round bottom was perfectly formed to the concave curve of his body and she snuggled, warm in her son's embrace as she allowed her legs to mimic his in their posture. They were cuddled together, warm and cozy.

Danny was pleasantly surprised to find his mother lying next to him. He could feel the warmth of her body and, with her head next to his, he luxuriated in the hint of her perfume and the warm, dusky odor of her luxurious hair. He draped an arm over her tummy and gently pulled her closer in an affectionate embrace. They lay there, luxuriating in each other's presence.

Danny didn't know quite what to do with his left arm. After he pulled his mother to him and snuggled against her, he allowed his hand to fall rather limply along his mother's waist, not quite knowing what to do. "Damn," he thought, as he pondered the thought of touching his mother's breast. He still wanted to see them, if not kiss and suckle them. He couldn't help it.

Jenny sensed her son's discomfort and gently took his hand into her own. She moved it upward until it fully cupped her left breast. She gently squeezed her son's hand, thus compressing her breast as many men had done before and releasing familiar, pleasurable endorphins in her brain. She squeezed again, as if giving him permission to affect her in any way he wished.

Daniel was not amazed or even surprised. After what had transpired earlier, mere hours before, he savored the contour of his mother's breast. It was round and firm and even with the most insensitive part of his hand, he could feel the small nub of his mother's erect nipple. He snuggled next to her and, finding a way through her hair, he gently kissed her on the nape of her neck.

"Thank you," she whispered, responding to her son's obvious affection. "Thank you," she whispered again and clutched his hand. She could resist no longer and guided Danny's hand down and then up, under her tee until she felt his hand gently holding her tit. His hand was warm, although she didn't care one way or the other. Cold, wet, warm, hot, she didn't care. The important thing was that there was true affection for her body and she certainly felt that from her son.

Danny was lost in the beginning of lust. That the object of his desire was his mother never crossed his mind. To him, he was on a couch with a beautiful girl and he had no obstacles in his way to satisfying his personal curiosity regarding sex. His hand was on the girl's breast, having been placed there by the girl, herself. There was no way, in all of his masturbation fantasies, that he could imagine a girl guiding his hand under her shirt or blouse to feel a breast. From the things he heard from some of his older classmates, there was usually a battle before teenage hands found teenage breasts. Nonetheless, his mother had done so. She seemed to be luxuriating in his touch.

Jenny was secreting. Her vagina was moist from her son's attention to her breast and her continuing thoughts of sex with her son. Yes, there was a naughty aspect to her desire, but not from any sense of immorality. No, this was just plain naughty sex. That she was going to continue sex with her son, she had no doubt. Neither did she possess the desire to stop. Her husband had been gone so long and jerking off was an unsatisfactory option for her. Oh, yes, her climax was still possible, even inevitable when she touched herself, but it wasn't the same as a real, live body of another person being with her.

Sex with Danny was special. She snuggled again, pushing her bottom into her son's crotch.

"Roll over, Mom," he whispered.

Jenny seemed to be awaiting his instruction and she complied quickly, without thought.

He removed his hand from her breast and gently brushed her dark hair from her face. They stared at each other for a brief moment. Without words, their love was conveyed as he planted soft, clumsy, yet tender, kisses on her. His fumbling touch was glorious. His sex was evident. She could feel it as he pressed against her. He lightly kissed her forehead, her eyelids, her nose, cheeks and finally, her lips.