Chapter 2: Stephanie

I know many of you are wondering about my mom. I mean, only a bathroom separates our bedrooms. Surely she knew what was going on.

To say my mother, Karen Winston, is a free spirit would be an understatement. She loves sex, but never wanted to be tied down. She's brought home with her dozens of men with her from a bar. Lord knows I've heard sex from her room on many nights.

The one thing she was a stickler about was birth control. She was always on the pill, wore a diaphragm, and used spermicidal cream, when she had sex. If she wasn't too drunk, she'd insist on her partner wearing a condom too. That is why her getting pregnant with me was such a shock.

The afternoon after I had sex with Amy in the school bathroom, my mom came into my room. I was laying on my bed, listening to some music. "So, you and Amy are hooking up. Congratulations. You are using protection, right?"

I sighed. She had always been up front about her sex life. Heck, she even admitted that she slept her way to her head secretary job at the law firm she works at. Not that she wasn't a great legal secretary. She just got the job she would have gotten three years later. If she can be that honest with me, I guess I should be honest with her. "Mom, I don't need protection."

I spelled it out to her. All of it. How I could control my cock. How I enslaved my best friend. How she wants me to fuck her every minute of the day.

After I was finished. She stood there with her mouth flopped open. Not even trying to hide it, she stared at my crotch. "Twelve inches," she whispered. "You have a twelve inch cock?"

"Thirty centimeters, if you want to go metric."

"And you can make it hard..."

"Or limp."

" ... Any time you want?"

She swallowed hard. "Well, Stanley. You've given me a lot to think about. Let me get back to you, and I'll let you know what I think."

"I'd appreciate your input, mom." Thinking back, I could have worded that better.

She walked down to her room, and, by the sound of it, frigged herself with a large dildo. The loud sounds of the buzzing, and her moaning filled our small house.

I turned the music on my I-pod up louder.

About an hour later, I went into the kitchen. My mom was fixing supper; which, in her case, meant going through the menus, and figuring what she food wanted delivered that night.

As I looked with her, she spoke up, hesitantly, this was not normal for her. "Stan, I have a favor to ask of you. I know it's totally inappropriate. And you can say no, if you want..."

I sighed. I knew what was coming. "What is it, Mom?"

"Is there any way I could see..."

I waited for her to finish. "You want to see my big penis, right?"

Blushing, another first, she nodded.

I said, "sure." I had seen her magnificent naked body over the years, walking through the house, without shame, I guess I owed her. "Why don't you sit in the chair? That way you can have a better look."

I stood close to the chair, and without any preamble I dropped my pants, then my briefs.

Her look of anticipation fell to one of disappointment.

"What do you think, mom?"

"Well ... It's limp. Do you think you could..."

"Oh, right, of course."

My member sprang to fully erect status in the matter of seconds. It almost hit her in the face.

After jumping back her eye widened at the size of my tool.

"Well, what do you think?"

"It's amazing!" she gushed. "I've seen a few bigger, but there was always something wrong; either too skinny or too fat. But this one is perfectly proportioned. It's what you would draw if you wanted to draw the perfect penis."

"I think it's too long."

"Oh no! Whenever a girl says 'Size doesn't matter', she is either lying, or has never been truly filled by a massive cock." Unknowingly, she started rubbing her crotch. A line of drool came out of her mouth.

"God, I did some good work when I had you. If you weren't my son, I'd ... But that doesn't matter, because you are my son. And having sex with my son, even though you can't get me pregnant, would be wrong. Right?'

"That's right, mom; very wrong.

"And actually, I could get you pregnant. If I truly desired to, I could get any girl pregnant. No birth control, short having her tubes tied, would prevent my swimmers from accomplishing their mission."

I let my cock go limp, and then stuffed it back in tightie whities.

When I pulled up my pants, she shook her head and blinked.

"Well, mom. What do you think?"

She smiled. "Packing weaponry like that, and doing what you can do with it, you're going to have girls lining up outside your door. You need something more than that twin bed you're now sleeping in. You need a king-sized bed."

"I'd been meaning to talk to you about that. I've hit a growth spurt, and my feet and head are touching the head and footboards."

"Well after we go shopping tonight, you won't have to worry about that."

"That means I'll need new sheets. Should I get pastel colors to please the girls?"

"Fuck that!" she exclaimed. "This is a man's room. Any girl who comes in here should know she's on your turf. You need dark colors. Blood red, maroon, brown, or black should be your colors.

"I like black, but none of that satin stuff you have on your bed. When I sleep in there, it feels like I'm going slide out of bed."

"Then, we'll get 700 count Egyptian linen, and flannel sheets to snuggle up in, in the winter.

The next day, Amy saw my new bed and sheets, and loved them.

A week later, I came home from school and found all my pants and underwear gone, and replaced with brand new ones. It was all my mother's doing.

"It you have the goods, you have to show them off," she said.

The new slacks were tight around the crotch, and all the underwear were black thongs, with a pouch out front to hold my junk. It felt like silk, but had some elastic to it, so it would stretch to contain even my full erection. At first, I found the thong uncomfortable. But I like the feel of support that the pouch provided.

My mother never did try anything with me. But sometimes, when I was in my room, fucking a girl, I'd see my bedroom door open a crack, and there would be my mom, watching, rubbing her crotch.

After the debacle in the school restroom, I decided that if I was the master, I needed to lay down some rules.

Tuesday morning, at 5am, I called Amy on her cell phone. I woke her up, but I didn't care. If I was the master, she'd have to live by my schedule.

She didn't mind. She frisked over wearing just a sheer robe, and nothing underneath. Seems she'd been sleeping in the nude, these last few days.

When we got into my room, she reached for the drawstring on my pajama bottoms. I swatted her hand away.

"Not now. We need to talk."

She pouted. "Doesn't my wuv monster want to come out and play?" Again she reached for my pants.

Again I knocked her hand away. "Not now! Obey me! Or my 'wuv monster' will be gone for a week."

Amy finally caught on that I was serious. She bowed her head. "Yes, Sir. I'm sorry, Sir."

"That's better. This impulsive shit has to stop. You have to remember your place. You are the slave. I am the master. I set the rules."

"Yes, Master," she replied.

"And that is what I'm going to do right now. Lay down some rules. You are to follow these rules at all times, unless I decide to break them:

"Rule Number One: No sex in the school. If you feel horny, and need to come, go to the restroom and masturbate. Or, buy one of those mini-vibes that you can strap on, over the clit. They have little wireless remotes, that let you control how much you stimulation you get.

"Rule Number Two: Every afternoon, after school, unless there is a conflict, I will fuck you. I'll fill you with my cum, and make you feel like a woman. I understand that you have needs, and I'm here to fulfill them."

Amy's eyes dilated, and she was obviously aroused. Little panting sounds escaped from her mouth.

"But that's it! The rest of the time we'll hang out, play video games, and listen to music; just like we used to."

That calmed her down. She smiled. "That sounds like fun.

"Any more rules, Master?"

"That's all for now."

"Then I guess I'll go back home and go to sleep."

"That sounds good. Go rest up. You need to be alert for school."

She scrambled out of bed and went back next door.

Once I set those ground rules, Amy behavior and impulse control improved. She still wanted me, whenever and wherever, but the rules told her she couldn't. And since I made the rules, she had to abide by them.

Just like my mother predicted, girls started lining up for my services.

Apparently, Amy didn't do a very good job cleaning the cum off her collar. Many girls knew what the stain meant, and started teasing her. Instead of being embarrassed, or making up a lie, she bragging about how great her boyfriend was in bed. Evidently, she was very good at describing my skills. The more conceited girls in school decided to try and steal me from her.

The first girl to try was the head cheerleader, Stephanie Powell. She was a senior and in my Algebra II class. She was a stunning beauty, with curves in all the right places, and bleached blonde hair. She wasn't too smart, but knew how to flirt, and was very limber. That made her a great cheerleader, and let her get passing grades in classes. She also was both homecoming and prom queen for two years in a row.

She was "going steady" with the varsity quarterback, but word was that she slept around, behind his back.

She and I had never said a word. There was no hostility. It's just that she was a senior and I was a freshman. I was below her notice. So, I was startled when she came up to me after a math class.

"Stan, you really seem to have this logarithm thing down. You must be real smart."

I shrugged. "I guess."

She batted her eyes and twisted a strand of her hair with her fingers. "I was wondering if you could give me some private tutoring."

I could instantly tell her intentions. "I suppose. You can come over to my house tonight, around 7pm."

She stuck out her bottom lip, in a mock pout. "I was thinking of you coming over to my place."

I got a mental image of the whole cheerleading squad waiting for me. "Uh uh, my tutoring, my rules."

She was surprised. It was unusual for her not to get her way. It also got her intrigued. "Oh. Okay."

I gave her my address.

That night, during supper, I told my mom that I was tutoring a girl from my math class.

She leered at me knowingly. "So it begins."

Stephanie was at my front door at the stroke of seven. She was wearing her cheerleader outfit. Her algebra textbook was pressed against her chest, making her large boobs flare out beneath. She bit her bottom lip fetchingly. "Thank you so much for seeing me with such short notice. But Mrs. Hoch is such a hard ass. She won't cut me any slack, like my other teachers."

I escorted her to my room, and closed the door. "You aren't really here for tutoring, are you?" I said. It was just a statement, no recriminations or accusations.

She smiled. "Guilty as charged." She pulled her top off. Her large perfect DD breasts bounced free. "I had heard certain things about you from you girlfriend, Amy What's-Her-Name..."

"Templeton."

" ... And I just had to see for myself." She sat down on one of the chairs at my desk, and started rubbing the bulge in my jeans.

"What will you boyfriend say?'

I thought that would throw her, but she just grinned. "What John doesn't know won't hurt him. It'll be our little secret."