TITLE    : Voodoo Moms

STORYID  : voodoo-moms

SUMMARY  : Sons get mom dolls.

AUTHOR   : alwayswantedto@lit

DATE     : 2011-07-17

CATEGORY : taboo-sex-stories

FLAGS    : h

TAGS     : |mom|son|mother|seduction|coercion|facial|love|reluctance|reluctant|mother/son|





<i>Note: This story is the second part of a trilogy; you should read Gary's Mom first.</i>

<i>All characters are 18 years or older.</i>

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

"My old lady's such a bitch," Billy complained as soon as he came out of the house. 

"Don't slam the door," his mother's voice followed us down the driveway as we jumped on our boards and peeled onto the street. "Wear your helmet," barely reached us through the window as we picked up speed crossing in front of Billy's house. He was looking at me with a crooked grin beneath his wind-swept mop of hair, pretending to ignore his mother who was pounding on the big living room window. 

I smiled and waved to his mother, then cupped my hand to my ear to indicate that we couldn't hear what she was saying, hoping it would help Billy get in less shit when he got home, unlikely as that was. I knew Billy's mother thought I was a bad influence. That's why I usually texted Billy to let him know I was there and waited for him to come out.

Billy's old lady wasn't all bitch. Nobody as good looking as she was could be all bad. Sure, she was uppity and almost always snarky but she had great legs and her tits, though small and low slung, protruded nicely from her chest, especially when she wore the light sweaters she favored. 

Of course, Billy couldn't see it. "Are you fucking kidding? She's just a fucking bitch. I wouldn't touch her with a ten foot pole. If I was forced to put my cock into her, I'd cut it off," he once responded to my comment that his mom had a hot body. "No way. It's your Mom that's fuckable," he had replied.

I don't care what Billy said, I'd fuck his mother in a hot minute but I knew she detested me. Actually, that was going too far. If it wasn't for my presumed influence on Billy you'd think she didn't know I existed. Yeah, Billy and I had gotten into trouble but she was way off the mark blaming it on me. It was Billy who got us started with the graffiti, it was him that talked me into stealing that car, and he was the one that broke into the corner store: all I did was stand watch. If his mother knew about the car and the store, she'd piss herself.

"You're going to get shit when you get home for not wearing a helmet," I taunted Billy when I finally caught up to him at the corner. 

"Fuck her," Billy spat.

"I pretended we couldn't hear so maybe you won't catch it so bad."

"Yah, right. Did you smile at her?"

"Yeah."

"That's great," Billy said. "She'll be really pissed now."

"Why?" 

"Because she'll think you were flipping her off."

Billy laughed, looked past me down the street, and swore. Dismayed by the vehemence of his statement I was slow to follow Billy's gaze.

"Fucking bitch," he cried. His mother's car turned out of the driveway and starting coming our way. "Come on."

Billy ran around the corner and ducked into the Garner's yard.

"Hurry," he yelled.

I caught up to him and we hid behind a shed just before his mother's car raced by. We watched until she slowed at the next corner, then turned right and sped away. Quickly, we ran back the way we had come and crossed the street. At the next block, we jumped on our boards and took off. Billy was shrieking with laughter. 

"Stupid bitch," he cackled.

In the skuzzy part of town, we went into the place Billy had been telling me about. It was a real creepy dump with all sorts of voodoo shit hanging all over the place and books about witches and that kind of crap strewn around. Billy palmed a bell on the counter and we waited, he eagerly and me with apprehension, hanging near the door. An ugly, fat old black woman with raggy-looking dreads pushed through the strings of beads hanging in the doorway.

"You got 'em?" Billy asked. "You said they'd be ready today."

"You got the hundred?" the apparition demanded in a throaty, smoke-ravaged voice.

"Yeah, sure," Billy dug in his pocket, uncharacteristically respectful in his demeanor.

Billy put five twenties on the counter. "You got 'em?" he repeated.

The old woman ignored him but took the bills and walked back through the doorway, leaving us to look at the clicking, swinging strings of beads. Billy shrugged and smiled. I waved the hand that wasn't holding my board in a 'what the fuck?' motion. Billy started to say something but footsteps scraped over the floor on the other side of the beads so he lowered his hand, palm down to silence me.

"Here," the old woman dropped a shoebox on the counter. "And remember, you didn't get 'em here."

Billy tucked the box under his arm, picked up his board and walked out the door. Outside, I asked him what he'd bought for a hundred bucks.

"I'll show you in the park." Billy hopped on his board and took off down the sidewalk. Turning his head slightly, he yelled, "You owe me fifty bucks."

"What?" I yelled at his rapidly receding back, but he didn't answer. I jumped on my board and worked feverishly to catch up which was hard even with him carrying the box. Billy had always been better on the board than me.

After checking for crap, we sat on the grass overlooking one of the duck ponds in the park. There was a bench about thirty feet in front of us with a couple of raisins acting like they were still dating and tossing bread crumbs to the turd factories. 

"Let me see what you blew a hundred on," I said, trying to grab the shoe box. 

Billy pulled it away, keeping his forearm firmly pressed on the top of the box. 

"Wait," he said, eyeing the young couple walking along the paved walkway in front of the raisins.

"And I don't owe you any fifty bucks," I asserted.

"We'll see," Billy answered.

"You didn't buy dope, did you?" I asked, looking around, suddenly feeling exposed sitting in a public place. Billy knew how I felt about drugs after what happened to my sister.

Billy laughed. "No, you big chickenshit. I got somethin' better than that."

"What?" I said, trying to grab the box again. 

Billy elbowed me away, then cracked the lid an inch. I relaxed and he lifted the lid some more. I ducked my head to peer inside but it was too dark to see.

"Come on, open it!" I demanded.

Billy cackled, then pulled the lid right off.

"Dolls!" I exclaimed. "Dolls? What the fuck?"

"Special dolls," Billy explained.

That wasn't enough for me.

"They're all yours," I said. "I'm not giving you no fifty bucks for no doll."

"We'll see," Billy said.

"No, we won't see," I responded. "They're all yours." 

Billy was peering in the box, checking out the dolls. He lifted one out and held it up in front of him against the backdrop of the big pond. 

"Hey," I said. "It kinda looks like your old lady."

"Exactly," Billy smiled. The smile turned into a sneer as he flicked his finger at the doll's face. "I hope this thing works. It's worth a hundred just to see."

"You paid a hundred bucks for a shitty doll that looks like your old lady?" I asked, sneering.

"Fifty," Billy said. "This one's yours." 

He emptied the box into my lap and tossed the box onto the grass about ten feet away. I picked the doll up and examined it. 

"Hey, this one looks like my old lady."

"Yeah, genius" Billy confirmed. 

"How did she do that?"

"I gave her some pictures, some hair, and a pair of her panties."

"You stole your old lady's panties?"

"No, yours. The old boot wanted hair but I couldn't get any of your old lady's so I stole a pair of her panties from your laundry."

I started laughing and rolling on the grass. 

"You stole my old lady's panties to sniff," I cried, tearing up because I was laughing so hard.

The old raisins turned around to look at us. 

Billy slapped at me a few times.

"Shut up," he hissed, but I ignored him and repeated my accusation.

The raisins looked disgusted.

"Sniffing my old lady's panties," I yelled.

"Shut the fuck up," Billy connected with a hard one.

"Hey, fuck off," I cried, sitting up and hauling back with my fist to show I was ready to let him have it.

"This is serious," Billy said.

"Serious? Seriously fucked is what it is," I said. "Paying a hundred bucks for a couple of dolls that look like our old ladies?"

Billy screwed his face up. "I'm going to fill this sucker with pins and make that bitch suffer," he said vehemently.

"What?" I cried.

"These aren't just dolls, they're Voodoo dolls," Billy stated emphatically. 

"Voodoo dolls?"

"Yeah, you can do shit to them and the real person suffers." Billy's face broke into an evil smile. "I bet that bitch gets a bruise just from flicking my finger in her face, or she would have if I'd said the lingo before I did it."

Billy suddenly looked concerned. 

"Hey, where's the secret words?"

He scrambled over to the box, turned it upside down, peered inside and all around the box and the lid.

"Fuck!" he cried. "Fucking black whore."

I looked at my doll. "You mean these?" I asked, holding the doll up with its back toward Billy so he could see the nonsense scribbled on the piece of paper pinned on its back.

Billy turned his doll over. "Yeah," he said. "That's it. You gotta say that before you do somethin' to it." Billy mumbled some kind of mumbo-jumbo, flicked the doll in the face, and cranked out an evil laugh. "Take that you fucking bitch." He looked at me. "You try it."

I whispered the words on the back of the paper, then flicked the doll's face but missed, hitting it on the side of the head instead. Unlike Billy, I wasn't comfortable with hitting someone, even in jest, and especially my mom. Though I complained about her when Billy, I actually liked my mom. She was kind of cool.

Billy laughed. "Feels good, huh? Fifty bucks," he said, holding his hand out. 

I tossed the crudely made doll back to him. "You keep it."

Billy laughed again. "Okay, but it'll be seventy-five by the weekend and a hundred after that if you change your mind."

"I won't change my mind."

"We'll see," Billy answered smugly, stuffing the dolls into his jacket.

We grabbed our boards and left the park. I looked back and saw the raisins picking up the box and the lid, both of them shaking their heads as they trundled toward a trash can. We laughed and sped away.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

I kicked out my board when I turned into our driveway. Dad sometimes worked at home and didn't like the noise but it was too early for him to be there. I did it for Mom. She didn't like the racket either. I had learned early that keeping the peace at home made life easier.

My mother was one of those well-educated, pampered, fortyish women who were bored with lots of time on their hands because they had temporarily suspended their careers to have children and found it financially unrewarding and far less fun to return to work. She spent her days exercising and going to spas, having coffee and volunteering for whatever trendy cause was currently popular with her friends. To me, it seemed a vacuous, wasted life. 

Like my mother, my father was a professional photographer. When my sister and I came along, Dad had turned from artsy photography to pictures that put more bread on the table. He started doing brochures for government and commercial ventures but then stumbled on doing fashion photo shoots for which it turned out he had a particular flair. Dad built a name for himself and became quite well paid. He was often away for days and sometimes weeks at a time on location. 

After my sister and I started school, Mom returned to the artsy photography she and Dad had done but it wasn't long before her interest waned. She even tried getting in on the fashion shoots with Dad but quickly quit. Photographing lots of young models wasn't her cup of tea, whether of men or women, though most of Dad's shoots involved women. I don't think Mom liked that much but she had grown accustomed to the lifestyle it afforded. So Mom lived her life of leisure and left the rest of the family to live their own as long as they didn't intrude upon hers. For my part, I didn't have to get a summer job as long as I indulged "my" interest in photography or art. Ours was a satisfied if somewhat disenchanted household.

"Hi Mom," I said upon seeing her sitting on a stool in the kitchen watching the late afternoon fare on TV while she cut up vegetables for a salad. The sound was turned almost all the way down.

"Not so loud, Jeff," she complained, putting one hand to the side of her head.

"Sorry," I apologized, opening the fridge to get a can of root beer. I popped the tab and Mom winced at the sudden crack.

"Jeffrey!"

"Sorry, Mom. Do you have a headache or something?"

"Yes. Isn't that obvious," she replied testily, turning toward me and pulling the hand away from the side of her head. 

I looked closely at her head. It was flushed and swollen by her left temple.

"Jeez, did you fall or something?"

"No," Mom shook her head. "I've just got this splitting headache that came out of nowhere."

Mom placed her head back in her hand and I put my arm around her shoulder. 

"Do you want me to do the vegetables for you?"

"Would you? That would be nice."

"Sure," I said. "I can make the rest of the dinner too if you want. Why don't you go lie down."

"No. I still have the fish to prepare."

"I can put the fish in the microwave. Dad can rough it for one night."

"Your father will be working late." 

Mom's emphasis of the word 'working' hinted that she didn't think there it would be a hardship for my father.

"So, just you and me then. Should I open a bottle of the good stuff?" I tried to lighten Mom's mood and put some distance from the thought of Dad being late again.

"Don't make me laugh," Mom complained. "Sure, why not, but not red. I've already got a headache."

Mom shuffled out of the kitchen. I put the can of root beer down on the counter and went to get the fish out of the fridge. It was already in a rectangular Pyrex container. While sprinkling spices over the top and adding some lemon, I thought about Mom's head. I couldn't help but notice that the swelling was on the same side I had flicked the doll. Holy shit, if that voodoo stuff actually worked, I had to get the doll of Mom away from psycho Billy. 

I wished I hadn't gone to that place with him. What if Billy killed his old lady? He really hated her but was he crazy enough to do it? What if the old woman remembered me? What if Billy did it and she saw it on TV and phoned the cops? What if she had cameras in her store?

I crudely chopped the rest of the vegetables up and sliced up little bits of apple and oranges and threw them into the big salad bowl, then shoved the fish into the oven. Thinking about the park, I sprinkled a few raisins into the salad too. I grabbed the phone and called Billy. As soon he answered he started into a tirade.

"Fucking pig-fucking whore," he yelled. 

"What did she do now?" I asked.

"Not my old lady," Billy shouted. "That old douche bag that sold me the dolls. I'm getting my money back."

"What's the matter?"

"It doesn't fucking work," he cried. "I slapped it around a bit and my old lady didn't react at all. I stuck a pin in the fucking thing and she didn't even flinch. That fucking whore took me for a ride."

"Oh, shit. That sucks."

"Fucking right. I thought the bitch would at least have a bloody nose when I got home but no fucking way. Nothing," he cried in disgust.

"That really sucks," I sympathized but was privately relieved.

"Fucking right. So hey, did yours work? Maybe it's just mine. Did your old lady have a bruise where you hit it?"

"No," I responded, perhaps a little too quickly, hoping Billy couldn't read the lie in my voice. "Nothing. Nada," I added, emphatically.

"That pig-fucking whore," Billy berated the old black woman again.

"Hey, I'll take it off your hands," I said.

"What do you mean?" Billy asked, suddenly wary.

"I mean, I'll get your money back. You know if you go you'll start swearing at the old boot and that will just get her pissed and make her dig in her heels."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Alright, sure. Think you can do it?"

"I can try. Yeah, I think so."

"Okay, but you owe me the money either way."

Yup, a typical "Billy" deal. Real fair, if your name was Billy. I was relieved his doll hadn't worked and convinced myself that Mom's headache was just a coincidence.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

The next day, I got the dolls from Billy. He opened the door and waved me up to his room. I rushed in, hoping to avoid an encounter with his mother. I needn't have worried because she was outside in the backyard. 

"Let's go," I said.

"I'm not going, you are," Billy replied.

"Well then just give me the fucking dolls."

"No, I want to try it one last time."

"Why? You said her bullshit didn't work. Just give them to me," I urged.

"One more time," Billy insisted. 

He pulled the dolls from under his bed and took them to the window looking over the backyard, casually tossing the one of Mom onto the floor. I winced and bent to pick it up. Billy stared out the window, presumably at his mother. I stepped up beside him and looked down. His mother was bent over one of her rose bushes. I remembered years earlier getting supreme shit from her for breaking a stem off one of them, something Billy had blamed on me. 

Billy held the doll over his desk, its feet barely grazing the top.

"Odla bi, Odla ba, On your knees, Ready to please," Billy chanted. "Take that you bitch." 

On that note, Billy banged the doll on the back, crashing it face first on the desk, and quickly looked out the window. 

"Fucking piece of shit!" he cried.

"What?" I asked.

"She should have fallen on the roses and pricked herself all over. I told you, the fucking thing doesn't work." Billy tossed the doll onto the floor.

"Of course it doesn't. That old whore just made that mumbo jumbo up. I can't believe you fell for it."

"Fuck off. Gary Robinson swore to me it worked. His old lady's into that mysticism crap and she got one to ease her aches and pains, actually massages it herself if you can believe it. Anyway, Gary said he feels it up himself and she treats him real nice now."

"Robinson's a bullshitter," I said.

"Yah, well, he told a good story."

"Yeah, a real live one," I laughed.

"Fuck you," Billy said. "I'm going to give Robinson what for, believe you me."

"Yeah, well don't be too rough on him. You know what happened last time."

I picked up the doll. 

"Try it," Billy said.

"Nah, you said it don't work."

"Try it," he insisted.

"Ok. I started to recite the slogan the old woman had written on the doll's back, then stopped and coughed.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing, just got something in my throat is all."

I started again but this time spoke the words exactly as Billy had said them instead of the way they were written. Upon the last word, I smacked the doll hard, knocking it right out of my hand and onto the floor.

"Good one," Billy yelled, jumping over to the window. He turned away, disgusted. "Nothing. Like I said, the fucking thing doesn't work."

"Ok, I'll take them back."

"Yah, get our money."

I pulled fifty bucks out of my pocket and handed it to Billy. "Don't worry, I'll get it."

"Hey, my man," Billy grinned, admiring the bill. "I thought I'd have to pound on you for this."

"Yeah? You and who's army?"

I laughed but we both knew Billy didn't need any help to take me.

Mrs. Hammond was coming in the back door as I left with the dolls. I rushed outside and hurried onto the street but didn't head downtown. Instead, I went home. Billy had messed up the slogan the old woman had written on the back of the dolls. Lazy old con that she was, she hadn't even put different mumbo jumbo on each doll but had used the same simple jingle for both, and a stolen one at that. I was sure it was all nonsense, but Mom's headache the night before left me with a nagging feeling I wanted to put to rest. I picked up my pace and was running flat out when I got home.
<hr pg="2" />- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

"Hi Mom," I called walking in the front door. 

Mom was sitting cross-legged on her yoga mat in the middle of the living room. 

"Shhhh," she hissed, her head twitching slightly but less intense than the frown I knew would be on her face in response to my disruptive entry. I wrinkled my nose and flipped a bird at her back. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing if Billy's stupid dolls actually did work. Sometimes Mom could be a pain in the ass. I ran up the stairs, making no attempt to be quiet, and slammed my bedroom door, pleased by the muffled sound of Mom's displeasure, "Jeffrey!"

I took the dolls out and threw the one of Billy's mother on the bed. Holding the other one, I read the note on the back.

"Obla di, Obla da, On your knees, Ready to please."

Billy was mildly dyslexic and had difficulty reading. When we were little, in school, the teacher asked me to help Billy read. That's how we became friends. Amongst other difficulties, Billy couldn't tell the difference between a 'b' and a 'd'. Had he grown up in a house where Beatles music was played all the time, he wouldn't have made that mistake with this lyric. The old boot couldn't even come up with original mumbo jumbo.

Not that it mattered, but I wanted to be sure. I opened my bedroom door and crept down the hall to the little alcove at the top of our stairs and kneeled behind the banister. Mom was still sitting in her yoga position with her hands pressed together in front of herself. I got down on my stomach and peered through the slats, setting the doll in a sitting position in front of me.

"Obla di, Obla da, On your knees, Ready to please," I whispered.

Nothing happened. I frowned. What did I expect?

About to get up, I realized I had only repeated the words, I hadn't actually done anything to the doll. Setting the doll back in front of me, I gently brushed it on the right side and was startled to see Mom abruptly lean to her left, jerking arm hand out straight to break her sudden fall.

A chill shivered up my spine and the hair stood up on the back of my neck. What the fuck?

Mom shook her head and returned to her position. I pinched the doll's hair and, as gently as I could, tugged it back just a smidgeon. Mom's head tilted back.

Holy fuck. I stared at Mom. Her arms were moving slowly in a flowing motion, perfectly balanced from side to side. I pressed my finger into the doll's back and watched as Mom arched hers. I jerked my hand back. Motherfucker!

I watched Mom until her hands came back to rest in front of herself. When she rose up in a fluid motion to her finishing stance, I pushed myself up onto my knees and backed into the hall. Quietly, I returned to my room and shut the door.

Holy fuck! What was this? It worked! The fucking thing actually worked. Billy would really owe me when I showed him how to make the one of his mom work. 

No, shit, I couldn't do that. Billy might seriously hurt his mother if he knew how it worked. He'd get carried away, like he always did. I had to take the dolls back, had to get rid of them. I picked up the doll of Billy's mother and stopped dead in my tracks.

It was cold. No, not cold. It was room temperature. I looked at the doll of Mom which I still held in my left hand. It was warm, but it hadn't been when I'd first picked it up. When did it get warm? I looked at it more closely, then compared it to Billy's doll. The one of Mom seemed more real. In addition to being warm, the skin looked more natural and felt less like plastic.

I threw both dolls onto the bed and jumped back. This was weird, and scary. I had to get rid of these cursed things. No, no I couldn't. I couldn't let the one of Mom get into someone else's hands. I'd just get the money back for Billy's. 

What to do with the one of Mom. I couldn't destroy it in case it killed her. Or would it, if I didn't say the mumbo jumbo? I decided I couldn't take that chance, which meant I had to keep it in a safe place. I shoved Billy's doll into my backpack ready to take back the next day and tucked Mom's under my pillow for safe keeping until I found a better hiding place. 

I stayed in my room until Mom called me down for dinner.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

The next day I went over to Billy's place because his mother called and asked to see me. How she knew my number I could only guess. She probably searched Billy's phone. I shivered at the thought of her knowing his password and reading his emails. I went because she said if I didn't come, she would come to my house to talk to my mother without saying what it was all about. Maybe Billy was right, maybe she really was a douchebag. Filled with apprehension, I rang the doorbell. Mrs. Hammond answered the door with a disingenuous smile.

"Well hello, Jeffrey. It's so nice to see you. Please do come in."

She stepped back to let me enter. Her welcome didn't fool me; I had seen her explode on Billy before. Three feet inside the door, wanting to run back outside, I watched while she closed the door and then followed her slender, shiny legs into the kitchen. She was wearing a dress with a short skirt made of a filmy, body-hugging material that very effectively advertised her former-model physique. She may be a bitch but she was a foxy one with a bitching hot body. 

I remembered this outfit. I had seen Billy's mom wear it before over the flimsy bikini she used to tan in the backyard, that is, back in the days when I was welcome in her house. As I followed her, I noted that there was no evidence of a bikini top under the barely translucent dress and a similar lack of evidence for a bikini bottom. I was glad when she motioned for me to sit at the table. I covered my lap with my backpack when I sat down and braced myself for whatever tirade was to come. Maybe someone saw Billy and I completing our latest graffiti masterpiece or it she might just be pissed about Billy and I ducking her yesterday. 

Mrs. Hammond opened a cupboard and pulled out two tall glasses. She turned and went to the fridge, returning with a pitcher of what looked like green lemonade. Silently, without looking at me, she filled the two glasses, replaced the pitcher and dropped some ice in each glass. Picking up both glasses, she handed one to me and walked back to the counter, hitching herself up on a stool on the side facing me.

"So, Jeffrey. First, thank you for coming over on such short notice..."

I nodded agreeably despite the fear her gracious behavior instilled in me.

"...and secondly, I'd like to acknowledge all the help you've provided for Billy over the years, especially in school."

I nodded more slowly, anticipating the launch into what had being going on outside of school. However, I was distracted when Mrs. Hammond lifted her right leg to cross it over her left knee. The short dress skidded back an inch or so, leaving a sizeable expanse of the underside of her glistening right thigh open to inspection. 

Mrs. Hammond raised the glass to her mouth and took a long sip of the green lemonade, perhaps to let her points sink in, but my brain used them to process the lean shape of her leg, an analysis that placed an uplifting pressure on the backpack sitting upon my lap. I blushed when Mrs. Hammond lowered the glass to set it on the counter, revealing a knowing smile. I took a drink myself to cover my reddening face and almost choked. The 'lemonade' was some kind of strong, gin-based drink.

"I thought we should discuss your relationship with my son over the past year," Mrs. Hammond went on while I sputtered.

She looked down at her dress and brushed her hand over it to remove something from her leg that was too small for me to see but I definitely noticed the hem sliding higher up her thigh.

"But I've changed my mind. I think we should agree to forget about the recent past and concentrate instead on the future."

Mrs. Hammond gazed blankly, making me even more uncomfortable. I nodded and hugged the backpack to my chest. Mrs. Hammond smiled confidently.

"Have another drink, Jeffrey."

I took a big swig and was glad for the immediate effect of the gin. Mrs. Hammond waited for me to finish, bouncing her right foot up and down, leveraging that leg over her left knee. The muscles in her right leg tensed and relaxed, alternately stretching and bulging the soft, sexy underside of her long thigh, now naked to within inches of her ass, the beginning of which was identified by an extra bulge of flesh. Mrs. Hammond continued to gaze at me with an undecipherable expression. Unable to discern what she thought about the obvious target of my own attention, I nodded nervously, silently urging her to continue.

"Perhaps you should take a bigger swig before we start." 

I did as Mrs. Hammond suggested, feeling I might need it. As soon as I dropped the glass from my mouth, now only a third full, she spoke in a softer but more threatening tone.

"I'm not even going to ask why you gave Billy fifty dollars yesterday, or why you're supposed to give him another fifty tonight."

I looked away to give myself time to think. If she had had read his email or the text messages on his phone, she'd know about the dolls. She didn't seem to know what the money was for, so she had probably just overheard us talking. Did she think Billy was selling drugs?

"Don't even try to deny it," Mrs. Hammond said in response to the expression of denial automatically forming on my face. "I know what I know. Anyway, I want to move past that." 

She looked down and brushed something else I couldn't see from her leg, then allowed her eyes to travel along it to her slowly bouncing foot and the brightly painted toes protruding from her matching sandals. She looked up and caught my eyes moving up and down in time with her foot.

"Why don't you finish your drink and bring it over here so we can discuss things properly," she suggested.

I didn't want to but was afraid not to do what she said. I gulped down the rest of the glass and took it over to Billy's mother as she straightened the 'dress' and made a futile attempt to tug it down her legs. All she accomplished by squirming her thighs about was to draw my eyes there more firmly.

Mrs. Hammond's eyes burned into mine as she lifted her own glass and downed its contents. This close up, I could readily see that she wasn't wearing a bikini top under the dress which I now realized was more of a wrap. In fact, she was wearing nothing, not even a bra. The material clung to her smallish breasts which nevertheless managed to slope down and almost fling themselves through the flimsy material. Mrs. Hammond noted my line of sight and smiled.

"Pour us another Jeffrey," she husked, banging her glass down on the counter.

I opened the fridge, retrieved the pitcher, and managed to refill our glasses without spilling a drop even though I snuck several peeks at her chest and was even able to isolate her nipples. When I started to put the pitcher back in the fridge, she spoke abruptly, "Leave it."

I set the pitcher down on the counter and, before turning away, cast my eyes into her lap. There was a hint of black beneath the translucent material of the dress/wrap. The sight of such sexy panties initiated a tingling in my cock which I realized with a start was no longer covered by my backpack. My arms and neck stiffened. I knew I was hard but I couldn't look down to see how apparent my erection was without giving myself away. I looked up and stared fixedly at Mrs. Hammond, hoping to prevent her from looking down. She gazed steadily back at me. 

I broke first. "Mrs. Hammond, I can explain..."

"I said I wasn't interested in the past," she cut me off but in a soft voice added, "Really Jeffrey, I want to talk about the future." 

She unlimbered her right leg from atop the left and braced her foot on the lower rung of the stool. The action pulled her knees apart and it was impossible for my eyes not to be drawn into the gap that appeared between her thighs. Mrs. Hammond looked down too and attempted to tug her skirt lower but when she lifted her hand it scraped the dress back even further than its original exposed position. I sucked in my breath as an inch-wide slice of black panty appeared. Mrs. Hammond's left hand, which had been resting on the counter, slipped onto mine. 

"I want us to work together, closely together," she almost whispered. Coincident with her last word, her thighs widened momentarily, thrusting the panties forward and markedly delineating a dark groove. "I know you're a good friend to Billy. I want to be your friend too. Can you do that, Jeffrey. Can you be my friend and work with me to help Billy?"

I nodded, at a loss for words and unable to pull my eyes away from her panties.

"That's good," she said. "The first thing we have to do is get Billy to stop cruising around on that ridiculous skateboard."

That got my attention. "His skateboard? I don't know Mrs. Hammond. Billy loves his board."

"I know," she said, flexing her thighs, "but it really has to go."

"I don't know. I don't think I can get him to quit using..."

Mrs. Hammond stood up, an action that left her standing so close to me we were almost touching. 

"Are you sure, Jeffrey? Skateboards are for little boys. I'm sure if you quit using yours, Billy would too."

Mrs. Hammond's fingers curled around my forearm and lifted it up, pressing it to her side. "Surely you're ready for more manly things, Jeffrey?" 

I stifled a gasp. My hand was pressing against the side of Mrs. Hammond's left breast. I could feel its warmth and the outline of it shape in my palm. She pressed my hand closer to her chest and I was surprised by the meatiness of her little tit. Mrs. Hammond turned her head to the right and twisted her torso slightly with it, grazing my palm with a hard nipple. 

"I don't know what I'm going to do if you can't help me, Jeffrey," she sounded suddenly vulnerable. "I was counting on your help."

"Uh, I can try, Mrs. Hammond," I choked.

She looked up at me but kept her breast turned into my palm. 

"Will you try to help me?"

I nodded, my wooden head. "Yeah, I will, Mrs. Hammond."

"That's wonderful, Jeffrey."

Billy's mom stretched up on her toes and kissed me on the cheek and then briefly brushed her lips across mine. 

"Thank you," she breathed, staying up on her toes. "You don't know how much I appreciate your help."

Her right arm curled around my neck and she stretched her mouth toward me again. As her lips nibbled at mine, she pulled my arm closer, closing my hand over her little tit. I was so stunned, I stood there like a stump. Even the moistness of her lips couldn't block the sense of the hard nipple digging into my palm, even when they sustained a more firm pressure that could only be interpreted as a kiss. But it wasn't the kiss that pushed aside the impact of Mrs. Hammond's nipple in my brain, it was the brush of her belly against the peak of the tent in my pants. When she pulled away a few seconds later, by only an inch or so, Mrs. Hammond smiled under glazed eyes and seemed poised to recapture my lips but slowly sank back onto her feet instead. 

"Get rid of his skateboard so we can talk about the next step," she husked. "I'll be so grateful to you, Jeffrey." Her smile widened. "Very grateful," she purred.

She fell back on her heels and spun away.

"Mr. Hammond should be home soon. He's coming early today."

I was dismissed. I picked up my backpack and made my way awkwardly to the door, opened it and turned to say goodbye. Mrs. Hammond was leaning in the kitchen doorway, her hips cocked up against the jamb.

"I hope to see you soon, Jeffrey. Oh, by the way," she said seductively, "do you think Billy is interested in girls too?"

I closed the door and ran home, sort of. I had to slow to a walk several times because my boner was so hard.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

I didn't see Mom when I got home which suited me just fine because my erection was killing me. I rushed upstairs to my room where I quickly fished out and started pulling on my pud. Fuck, Billy's mom was hot! For a minute there I thought she wanted me to fuck her. I mean, she actually kissed me and pushed her tit into my hand. On purpose! 

Slowing my whizzing hand so I could prolong the enjoyment of the memory of Mrs. Hammond's parting stance, I opened my backpack and rummaged around for Billy's doll. There was no way I was taking this back. Not now! The doll felt warm, just like the one of Mom had, and its legs looked more like real flesh instead of plastic too. I put it on my desk and sped up my hand to finish myself out the open window but stopped cold with my fingers curled tightly around my shaft.

Mom was lying outside on her yoga pad, stretched out on her stomach with her hands in front of her, reading a pocket book. She was wearing a bikini but the top had been unhooked and the straps were laid out to her sides. Instantly, the sensation of Mrs. Hammond's tit burned into my hand. What would it feel like to hold Mom's bigger tit? 

My hand started moving on my cock as my eyes ran down Mom's lovely legs and slowly returned up to her fine, more substantial ass. The tiny bikini was obviously designed for tanning in private. Gosh, Mom should show her body more often. Mother or not, older woman or not, I knew I would fuck that in an instant if given half a chance. Her legs weren't long like Mrs. Hammond's but they were nicely shaped and I liked the look of her fleshier ass, especially the notable crease between her cheeks. 

"Oh man, I'd love to fuck that," I hissed.

I let go of my cock and batted it away. <i>What the fuck are you thinking?</i> I looked away but then twisted my head back to look at Mom. She was hot, quite hot. It was as if a secret had been revealed. My hand moved back to my cock but instead of grasping it I turned around and pulled Mom's doll from under my pillow. I set it down beside the one of Billy's mom, but face down. 

Opening the drawer of my desk, I scrambled around inside, picking up a pencil, a paper clip, a ruler and an eraser, discarding each in turn until, finally, I held an artist's paint brush. Quickly dissatisfied, I threw it away too. It was too thick. I leaned down to examine the contents and picked out another brush designed for delicate work. 

I looked outside to make sure Mom was still there. Perfect. Quickly, I removed the dress from the doll. The bra underneath wouldn't come undone and I couldn't get it off so I found some scissors and cut it off. 

I looked outside, armed with the paintbrush. Excited, fingers trembling, I put the tip on the back of the doll's ankles and slowly dragged it up the crease between its tightly pressed-together legs. I chortled with excitement, watching intently for a reaction from Mom, but there was nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Right, right.

Obla di, Obla da, On your knees, Ready to please.

I retraced the paintbrush's path.

Mom reached back and scratched the back of her leg, near her knee. I was so excited, I could hardly keep the paintbrush still. I took a deep breath and, forcing myself to concentrate, tickled it back up Mom's legs. Her legs twitched and she scratched herself again. Ecstatic, I laughed out loud, then quickly covered my mouth as I remembered the window was open. After another deep breath, I tickled the doll's legs again. Mom wiggled her bum and moved her legs apart but didn't scratch them. Encouraged, I ran the brush more slowly up the doll's legs and Mom's twitching legs parted even further. 

I dug through the drawer for a smaller brush but couldn't find one. Running over to my cupboard, I retrieved a paint set that I hadn't used for years. Tossing it on the bed I yanked the cover off and got the smallest brush there. It was tiny, designed for extremely fine work. 
<hr pg="3" />I hurried back to the doll and looked outside. Perfect. Mom was still reading. I put the tip of the brush on the back of the doll's left shoulder and slowly traced a swirling line around the edge of its back. Mom didn't seem to react but I kept dragging the tip of the brush around. For a change, I broke away at the doll's neck and ran the brush down its spine. Mom shivered and put her book down. She laid her head in her arms.

"Wow," I cried. 

I played the brush all over the doll's back, a thrill coursing through me whenever Mom twitched. I tickled down the doll's legs, along the back and up and down each side. I even tickled the doll's feet which made Mom lift her each foot temporarily before letting it slowly drop back to the mat. I was surprised, when it happened, by how long it took me to brush the tip across the doll's ass.

Soon, I was brushing all over the doll's cheeks and tracing the edge of its panties. I dipped the tip into the crease at the top of the doll's perfectly formed butt and found the apex at the top of the doll's legs. Mom twitched violently and squeezed her legs closed. 

I twirled the brush over my tongue to stiffen it and used it to urge the doll's panties lower on its bum. The movement of Mom's hands startled me at first. I thought she was going to get up but instead her fingers dug into the sides of her bikini and pushed it down a couple of inches. I couldn't move for a minute. The crease of Mom's ass was starkly evident and I could feel precum seeping from my cock. I grasped it and stroked it several times but released it in favor of further fun with the brush.

Twirling the brush around in my mouth, I pressed it between the dolls legs, hard up against where its pussy would have been if it had been real. I twirled the brush round and round, keeping the pressure on. Mom's legs seem to quiver. Was that my imagination? There was no way I could see that well from here but when her ass lifted off the mat and swayed from side to side, I was convinced she was reacting to the brush. Fucking 'A'.

I pushed the brush down and dragged it back up, then pressed it in again and again, bulging it against the doll's pretend pussy. Mom's ass churned and her hands disappeared beneath herself. Holy smokes, she was getting herself off. I dropped the brush, since it was no longer necessary, and grabbed my cock. As Mom's ass jerked around in a small oval, I stroked my cock. 

"Yeah, Mom. Do it. Do it." 

I picked up the doll and held it in front of me with its legs spread open. I pushed the tip of my cock onto its tiny ass and rubbed my glans over it as I jacked off. Mom's ass moved faster and more erratically. 

"Oh god, yeah," I cried, spewing my come all over the doll and beyond. It was a veritable flood which mostly shot out the window but thankfully not far enough to reach Mom. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

"I don't care. Take it if you want. Who gives a shit?"

I walked down Billy's drive to the sidewalk.

Billy scooted past me and pulled up at the end of the drive.

"Let's go to your place and get your board."

"No. I'm not taking it."

"Why?"

"I told you. None of the chicks think it's cool and I want to get it on with one of them."

"Which one?" Billy asked.

"I ain't tellin' you." 

I kept walking.

"Fucking Hell!" Billy exclaimed. 

I heard him kick his board up and a few seconds later it clattered on the driveway. I turned to look just in time to see Billy's arms swing back from tossing his board. He ran to catch up.

"Tell me whose pant's you want to get into," he demanded.

"I'll show you," I said, "as long as you don't say anything. If you fuck it up for me, I'll kill you."

Billy laughed. "Yeah? You and who's army?"

We toddled off down the street but my mind was on the curtain that had moved. I pictured Billy's mom behind it, and could hardly wait to see her to collect my reward. A few more days of Billy not using his board should be enough. I could only imagine what she meant by 'grateful, very grateful'. Maybe holding her bare tit and maybe even kissing it? Or grabbing a handful of her skinny butt that didn't even make her pants go tight. It even sagged down a bit but I pictured it as two sexy halves of a cut-open pear and wanted it anyway. I rubbed my cock through my jeans.

"Jeez, that girl's got you going, doesn't she?"

"What? Oh, yeah. I'd really like to do her."

"Tell me who it is."

"Wait until we get downtown," I said. 

I didn't want to tell Billy in case Janet wasn't at the show like we'd arranged. This was costing me another fifty bucks but it would be worth it if it worked. I was relieved when we got to the theatre and I saw Janet Johnson waiting outside with her constant companion, Wendy Hicks. This was a complication. I walked straight toward them, trying to keep my temper under control.

"No way," Billy whispered under his breath as it became clear that I wasn't headed past them.

"Shut up," I whispered back.

"Hey Jeff," Janet smiled. 

"Hey Janet. You ready to go in?"

"Sure. Wendy's coming too." 

Wendy looked disgusted. Obviously, she was doing this for her friend. 

"Uh... okay." I acted like it was a surprise but it was part of the bargain. I needed Billy to get interested in Wendy so he didn't start using his board again. 

"Okay, I'll pay your way," Billy offered reluctantly. I was sure he just wanted to see what happened between Janet and I and if that meant suffering through a movie, so be it. 

"No way," Wendy said.

Billy smiled, confirming my suspicion. Watching on the cheap was better.

"Let him. It'll be fun," Janet interjected.

"Well, alright, but it's not a date," Wendy stated emphatically.

Billy looked unhappy but joined us anyway. I bought two tickets for me and Janet and Billy did the same for him and Wendy. I started for the theatre, grabbing Janet's hand to make it look good but she steered me to the concession.

"I like coke and lots of butter on my popcorn," she said. "And get big ones."

Boy, she was really pushing it. I gritted my teeth and imagined Mrs. Hammond opening the door to greet me, a huge appreciative smile on her face and the wrap half undone. I bought a couple of extra chocolate bars. In the darkness of the theatre, I slipped Janet the money but held back twenty bucks.

"What gives?" she hissed.

"You gotta make it look good," I said, pulling her close. 

I opened my mouth and covered her lips with mine, pushing my tongue into her mouth right away. She struggled a bit so I backed off and tried to kiss her nicely. A few seconds later, to my surprise, she renewed the kiss and it slowly grew more and more intense. Janet pulled away and whispered, "You're a good kisser when you try."

I didn't answer because I wasn't sure what I'd done to kiss well. I pushed my face close to hers and waited for her to make contact. Maybe that was it, holding back and letting her come to me. This time it was Janet who was in a hurry to push her tongue into my mouth. 

I didn't mean to touch her tits. I was just trying to pull her closer, reaching around with my arm, but she pulled it right onto her tit. That was fine by me. I played it cool and within no time she was pushing it into my hand. Somehow, my hand slipped under her shirt and inside her bra. She had small ones like Billy's mom so it was easy to imagine myself fondling her bare tit and the nipple felt just the way I remembered it. I thought how weird it was to sit near Billy, rubbing a bare tit and imagining it was his mother's, knowing I might have a real chance of doing exactly that in a few days. I got a little carried away with my prowess and dropped my hand onto Janet's legs, then quickly moved up to cup her crotch.

"Hey, wait," she protested.

I was about to apologize but something made me reconstitute my response and I whispered back, "I'm not a jerk-off goody-goody like your boyfriend, so . . ."

Janet responded as if we were on a real date, one she wanted to continue. "I didn't mean anything, just don't go so fast, that's all."

I rubbed the jeans over her pussy, slowly like she said.

"Like that?" I asked.

"Yeah," Janet Johnson purred, seeking my lips out with her mouth.

That was the best kiss ever because it was the first time I had held a girl's pussy in my hand and hadn't had it bashed it away. She didn't even protest when I flipped the button undone on her jeans and pulled it apart to unzip them. She was so much warmer through just her panties. In the midst of an even longer kiss, I nudged them aside and slid my finger into her slick warmth. 

Rather than slugging me, Janet's mouth really went to town on my face. I wasn't sure what to do so I curled my finger up in her groove, then straightened and pushed it in as far as I could, then pulled it out and curled it up and straightened it out several times before pushing it back in. Soon, I was steadily finger fucking her. Janet kept chewing on my face until her body went stiff and shuddered, then she eased back and buried her face in my shoulder. 

While Janet's face was buried, I put her hand on my cock. She pulled away slightly but not all the way so I quickly undid my jeans and pulled her hand back, placing in on my shorts, then pulling the elastic down and letting my cock spring onto her hand. I almost cried out loud when her fingers closed around it. 

"Suck it," I whispered.

"I can't," she protested. "Not in here, anyway."

I was amazed she hadn't told me to fuck off and was actually considering it. 

"Where then?" I grabbed her hand and started jacking my cock with it.

"Don't. We'll get caught."

Janet pulled her hand away but she didn't freak out.

"You can't stop now."

"I'll make up for it," she hissed.

"Okay," I whispered, trying with some difficulty to get my cock back into my pants. The way Janet was staring at my cock made me think. "It's bigger than Brent's, isn't it."

Janet nodded. Brent was her boyfriend, one of the cool guys at school. I knew when she didn't freak out she was used to handling Brent's. I took a chance that she was used to something else too. 

"Think it's too big for your mouth?"

"It's not that big," she spoke derisively, then added more honestly, "I don't know."

"I'll do the same for if you try," I said.

"What?"

"I'll kiss you down there if you suck it."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really." Obviously, Brent didn't go down on her.

"Okay, I'll give it a try."

"When?"

"Tomorrow," she said. "I get my Mom's car tomorrow afternoon. Meet me here, alone."

"Here's the rest of the money," I whispered.

"Keep it until tomorrow," she said. "Billy's watching."

Shit, I had set this up to pull Billy away from his board so I could get something from his Mom, but if Janet Johnson was going to suck my cock, who gave a shit about Billy's old lady?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

"I don't believe it," Billy cried. "I still can't believe it." He whirled around in a circle then caught up to me when I didn't stop. "You got your hand in her pants!"

"Hey, don't say anything about that," I warned.

"I won't, I won't, but I saw it. You were frigging her good. That bitch Wendy even let me feel her up. At first, she wouldn't let me do nothin' but when she saw you friggin Janet, she let me touch her tits."

"Did she let you frig her?"

"Nah, but I rubbed it through her pants."

"Well, that's a start."

"I can't believe it. You and me, with Janet Johnson and Wendy Hicks."

"Well, you better keep it to yourself lessen you want to get beat up."

"I ain't afraid of them. If that Brent asshole hassles you, you just let me know. I'll take care of him."

"Thanks, but I'd just as soon keep it quiet."

"Yeah, that's even better. We'll fuck their girls right under their noses." Billy laughed really hard. "Fucking right. Fuck you, you jocks." He jabbed his fist into the air, taking out an imaginary foe.

"Hey Billy?"

"What?"

"Don't piss your old lady off this week."

"Why not?"

"Cause I'm going to set up a date this weekend with Janet and Wendy. Maybe we can go somewhere in her old lady's car."

"Yeah, ok. I'll be real nice to the old bitch."

"And leave your skateboard at home. We don't want Janet and Wendy seeing us on skateboards."

"Yeah, ok."

"Better yet. Throw it out in the shed or something in case she comes over to pick us up."

"Okay, if you say so."

"I say so."

"You're the dude, man. Fingering Janet Johnson. Fuckin 'A', man."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

We had driven out of town and took the first dirt road we came to. It ran into a yard but we backtracked and took an even older side road which turned into an overgrown trail before long. Janet turned toward me, ready to keep her promise but I got out and opened the back door. She laughed and crawled in from the other side. I loosened my belt and stood by the door waiting for her.

"Pretty cocky, aren't you?" Janet laughed as she undid my belt and unzipped my jeans.

"That's what they say," I responded, cockily.

"Well, they aren't kidding," Janet breathed, pulling it out from my shorts. "Fuck, it looks way bigger in the daylight. I don't know if I can."

"Sure you can," I said, suddenly getting worried. "Just start with the tip."

It was hard playing cool. Her soft fingers felt so good. She played with it, stroked it a few times and ran her other hand down to cup my balls, as if she hadn't yet convinced herself she could take it into her mouth. Dragging her hand up with thumb and index finger tightly encircling my shaft, she cooed, "Let's give it a whirl."

I braced myself for the bliss of her moist mouth, the first one ever to envelop my cock, except in my dreams. However, I was disappointed. Janet reached down into her purse, which was sitting on the floor in front of the seat, and pulled out a condom.

"Brent never remembers to bring one of these," she giggled, tearing the package open.

Fuck. Sure, I could see using a rubber if she was going to let me fuck her, but for a blowjob? I frowned at the top of her head as she placed the rubber on the tip of my cock and stretched it over the helmet and then rolled the condom down my shaft.

"Maybe I should have got a bigger one," Janet cooed. 

That made me feel better. My frown disappeared and I convinced myself that Janet was making me use a rubber because she was going to let me fuck her after sucking on my dick for a while. I smiled in anticipation as she paused, hovering over my sheathed cock, then bent down with open lips. I couldn't help nudging it in.

"Ahhhh, that's so great Janet," I cried as the warmth of her mouth surrounded my glans.

She pulled her head back and smiled up at me. 

"You like that."

"Yeah," I cried, wishing she'd shut up and put her mouth back where it belonged.

"Twenty bucks," she laughed.

"Twenty bucks," I cried. "You'd better be good for twenty bucks," I laughed louder.

"You only have to pay me if it's worth it," Janet continued playing our impromptu game. 

I put my hand gently on top of her head and tipped it forward onto the tip of my cock. 

"I'll give you fifty," I said, urging her down.

Janet relaxed the muscles in her neck and let me push her head down until it enveloped the entire head of my cock. I was pleased to see it was a struggle to open her mouth wide enough to get it in.

"Ahhhh, fuck Janet, that's nice."

Janet moved her head back and forth, only an inch or so, but it felt fantastic. My first fucking blowjob! As she kept bobbing her head, she tried to work more into her mouth but couldn't seem to manage it. I became acclimatized to her mouth on the top of my shaft and was eager to feel her lips crawling lower on my pole and the imagined, pulpy feel of her tonsils on the head of my dick. After a while, I became impatient, believing she wasn't trying hard enough. 

What was the big deal? Why couldn't she suffer a little discomfort? I said I'd go down on her after, didn't I, and that was a sacrifice in itself, taking on a face full of snooch. Juvenile jokes about the tide being out and smelling anchovies flitted through my mind. I screwed up my face and put my hands on the back of Janet's head, pulling it onto my cock. She sputtered and tried to pull away but I held her firm, my shaft bending as I tried to force it into her mouth despite the pain of scraping over her teeth.

"Ahhhhh, ughhhhhh," she gasped when she finally managed to yank her head off my cock. "You fucking asshole," she yelled.

Well, Janet might be practised giving Brent to blowjobs but it wasn't as good as I thought it would be. In fact, until I grabbed her head and shoved my cock deeper, it had been downright boring. Mind you, that didn't stop me from blowing my wad. I let loose a huge gusher and, given how tightly the rubber gripped my cock, shouldn't have been surprised when the end of it blew right off and my spunk spurted all over her angry face. I guess she should have kept her teeth off my cock.

Maybe Janet was even more shocked than I, or perhaps she couldn't see with one eye closed from my sticky cum, but whatever the reason, she didn't try to block my spurting cock from jamming back into her mouth, though she sputtered and gurgled and waved her arms around. When I was empty, I felt bad. Janet looked up at me, speechless and in utter shock, my cum dripping from her face. I pulled my t-shirt over my head and handed it to her, then waited while she wiped her face clean. Quite the picture of our likely Prom Queen.

"That was worth twenty bucks?" I said.

"And an extra fifty," she replied. "Or I'll tell Brent, you asshole."

"It was an accident," I complained.

"I don't give a shit."

"Ok. Twenty and fifty more."

Janet laughed. "And I want what you promised."

She grabbed my hand and pulled me into the car, falling backward and spreading her legs. She wasn't wearing any panties under her short skirt. Without ceremony, she pulled my face onto her pussy. 

"Lick it," she cried. 

Her far from docile pussy began humping my face as soon as my tongue stretched out to taste her already swollen lips. Janet's fingers curled through my hair and held my head tight. It wasn't comfortable but this was payback and I guess I owed her. 

"Yeah, oh yeah, lick it good," Janet cried, thrusting her snooch into my face.

She steered my head all over her pussy, directing my tongue where she wanted it most at any particular moment. I learned quite a bit by letting her handle me and started to get a feel for what she wanted. I even managed to pleasantly surprise her the few times she allowed me the freedom to move. Her moans let me know she liked being surprised but she didn't fully relinquish control. I understood that. The best part of fucking her mouth had been the bit at the end when I jammed my cock in deep, and then coming in her face and sticking it back into her mouth, forcing sloppy, gurgling sounds from her throat.

Janet came hard, and then came again a moment later. She pulled me further into the car and twisted to the front to let me lie against the back of the seat. Surprisingly, she kissed me, so perhaps I was forgiven. After a few minutes of kissing, she pulled me so I was flat on my back and got up on top of me. I thought I was going to get fucked for the first time in my life and held my cock up, still partly covered with the broken rubber, for her to squat on but she ignored it and straddled my chest instead, pushing her soaked pussy forward.

She looked down and hissed, "So you like to facefuck, do you?"

She was upon me in a flash and started humping my mouth furiously. All I could do was stick my tongue up and make it as stiff as I could so she could find it with her sweet spot and bring herself off as quickly as possible. Despite that, she wrenched around on me for quite a while. When she finished, she pulled herself down to my cock, which was still hard, grabbed it, pushed it away and pulled it back, then flung it away.
<hr pg="4" />"I don't fuck," she said. 

We drove back to town in silence. Janet prompted me for the money when she dropped me off and I handed it to her without argument. I was more concerned with how I could broach the topic of continuing our relationship. After all, a warm mouth on my cock, even covered with a fucking rubber, was better than my hand.

"Do you and Wendy want to double date this weekend?" I asked.

"You've got to be kidding. Get out, asshole!"

Billy was going to be pissed. How was I going to keep him on track without the lure of time with Wendy? 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

The week passed without incident. Billy had kept his word about leaving the skateboard behind all week and assured me he'd been nice to his mom. I was looking forward to seeing her on Saturday while he was working to capitalize on Billy's good behavior all week. 

My responses to his queries about Janet, and more importantly to him, Wendy, were evasive to say the least, but somehow, I managed to keep the news of Janet's disgust with me under wraps. The last thing I wanted was a Billy tirade and collateral sabotage of my plans for Saturday with his mom if her found out that Wendy wouldn't see him because of me. 

I knew I'd have to spill the beans Saturday afternoon, regardless of how well things went that morning. Billy's father played golf on Saturdays so I was sure to have the grateful Mrs. Hammond to myself. I could hardly wait until the morning. I needed to do something to keep my mind occupied and make the clock run faster.

Dad was working late and Mom was downstairs listening to some mood music. I wandered over to my desk and opened the big drawer where I had put the dolls. I meant to pick up the one of Mrs. Hammond but my fingers passed over to the one of Mom. I picked it up and examined it. Several seconds later, I brushed my fingertips across its breasts and then turned it over to apply the same treatment to its ass. I picked up the paintbrush.

"Obla di, Obla da, On your knees, Ready to please," I whispered.

I opened the door quietly and crept down the hall. Settling in behind the banister, I looked down on Mom, sitting with her back to me. Her head turned to the side as if she'd heard me and I froze but a moment later she carried on with what she was doing.

I set the doll in front of me between my legs and gently began working the bristles between the dolls legs, twirling the brush against the doll's upper thighs. After several minutes of this, I heard a quiet moan from Mom and I smiled. Who would have thought I would become a believer in voodoo? 

<i>I know you're lonely, Mom, so I'm going to get you off real nice.</i>

The doll warmed in my hands but I expected that. I pulled the top off for better access and was only mildly surprised when Mom abruptly shed her shirt. She wasn't wearing a bra so I was treated to an unbroken expanse of back skin with a intriguing spinal groove that ended between the swells of flesh that defined the upper reaches of Mom's ass just above her pants. The way she was sitting, I could also see the swells of her right tit peeking out to the side. I moved the brush up and tickled it along the side and over the top of the doll's breasts. 

<i>Do you like that, Mom,</i> I thought as she wiggled in response. <i>I bet you do.</i>

I trailed the bristles as lovingly as I could around Mom's chest, skirting her breasts but tickling the undersides and once or twice venturing south to dip between her legs for a quick pussy tease. After a very long while, I tugged the pants off the doll and watched with barely contained glee as Mom stood up and pushed her black stretchy pants down. Kicking them unceremoniously to the side, she was about to sit but changed her mind and pushed her panties down, then tossed them away with a flourish. She remained half-bent over for a few seconds, which allowed me to leisurely gaze at her bare ass and pouting pussy. As if reluctant to do so, she finally sat down.

Stunned, I sat for a moment, then pushed the doll onto its knees. Mom rocked forward onto all fours. I pressed the doll's head lower and Mom lowered herself onto her elbows on the carpet. Carefully, I inserted the brush between the doll's legs and started rubbing its pussy from behind. Mom's ass rocked gently back and forth as if the bristles were touching her. I even thought I heard her whimper once or twice.

She looked so fucking hot, my trembling fingers could hardly manipulate the paintbrush. When Mom dropped her forehead onto the carpet, the sight of her naked ass blossoming toward me forced drool from the corner of my mouth onto the handle. I spared one eye to watch it ooze along the slender shaft until it coated the bristles and wetted the area between the doll's legs. My cock became brittle when I detected the glistening presence of moisture between Mom's quivering thighs.

I yanked my cock out of my pants and tucked it up underneath my shirt. Unable to handle it and fondle the doll at the same time, I squeezed my left elbow in to rub it against my stomach. The paintbrush twirled and spun, faster and faster. Mom had folded her elbows out and was now lying with her face on the mat, ass high in the air, humping an imaginary lover. If only I could leap over the banister and impale that beautiful, quivering, beckoning pussy! It was incredibly hard to resist the urge. 

Mom's hips suddenly slowed and a series of violent twists racked her body, tossing her ass around in a set of wild gyrations. The sight of her coming so hard triggered an explosion in my balls and forced a geyser up my shaft which burst inside my shirt in five or six huge spurts that painted my chest with sticky goo. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

The next morning, well, about noon, really&#x2014;I hadn't been able to sleep until the wee hours of the morning and slept in&#x2014;I was at Billy's place to see his mother. There was no answer to the bell so I precociously opened the door and called out, something I would never have done before. Mrs. Hammond was waiting just inside the door.

"Come in and sit. I'll be right back down, Jeffrey," Mrs. Hammond spoke in a fairly husky voice. Her hand waved toward the living room before she turned away and walked slowly up the stairs.

Despite her instruction, I stood in the entranceway and watched her sashay up the stairs. Her gait was hard to describe in definite terms. It wasn't quite saucy but was far from the way she normally walked. Halfway up, she turned and smiled at me. She didn't repeat her instructions for me to sit down in the living room and didn't seem upset to find me watching her. The black slacks she was wearing clung tightly to her butt, outlining a behind that, while smaller than optimal, was certainly worth looking at. 

Mrs. Hammond turned away and I continued to examine her ass until she disappeared. She didn't turn back to look at the top of the stairs but she had to know I was looking. With butterflies in my stomach, I went into the living room to wait for her return, choosing a seat on the couch by the window to wait for her return.

I became lost within a reverie of Mrs. Hammond's gratitude for breaking the tie between Billy and his skateboard so she was halfway down the stairs before her light footfall penetrated my ears. I looked up and my mouth dropped open when I saw a vision approaching me. 

Unreal. Mrs. Hammond was dressed in a scarlet silk evening dress with matching shoes. The dress hugged her slim thighs and hips before parting to reach up and over her shoulders. I knew by the way it curled around her neck that the dress left her back entirely bare. In front, the dress was cut deeply between her breasts, the gap revealing an uninterrupted stretch of skin that immediately advertised the absence of a bra. On either side, Mrs. Hammond's smallish breasts nevertheless managed to announce themselves in a slinging projection that quivered with each step. That alone would have instantly stiffened my cock but, combined with the whole package&#x2014;pretty smiling face, gorgeous hair, bare arms, well-oiled legs&#x2014;was almost too much to bear. I almost came in my pants just looking at her. Mrs. Hammond stepped into the room and stopped a few feet in front of me.

"A gentleman always stands when a woman enters a room, Jeffrey," she said, managing to incriminate but in a pleasant tone of voice.

I jumped to my feet, face flushed by her presence and the fact that I knew she had seen me staring at her with my mouth agape.

"Mr. Hammond is taking me out to a fancy luncheon and I just don't know what to wear," she mused. "Do you think this is too much for a restaurant, Jeffrey?"

"N-n-no," I stammered as Mrs. Hammond slowly twirled in front of me. 

I was right, her unblemished back was completely exposed and the dress dipped so low that the top of her ass cheeks were revealed. My eyes were still locked on them when Mrs. Hammond came fully about. She grasped my hands in hers.

"Are you sure, Jeffrey," she asked through her perpetual smile. "You don't think it's too risqué?" 

Mrs. Hammond arched her back slightly and brought our hands together in front of her, squeezing her breasts together and pushing them up. Abruptly, she pulled our hands apart while her breasts were still thrust forward, forcing the dress so tightly around them they stood out in stark relief, and the fact that only the dress covered them became painfully obvious. I wished I could adjust the boner bending inside my pants. 

"Jeffrey?"

"Oh... uh, no. It's wonderful. Um, you look gorgeous, stunning."

"Why, thank you, Jeffrey," Mrs. Hammond glowed. She dropped my hands and grasped the lapels of the dress. "You don't think it's cut too low, do you? A bigger woman would be in danger of falling out, but I guess I needn't worry about that." Mrs. Hammond pulled the dress out and her slopey tits tumbled together, almost falling out of the dress. "Oops," she cried, releasing the dress. "I guess I have just enough there to be worried about."

She sure did. Mrs. Hammond seemed to be unaware that the dress, when released, hadn't completely covered her left breast, and its nipple was now partially exposed. 

"What about the back, Jeffrey?"

Mrs. Hammond spun half around, arching her back. I followed her curved spine down, seeing that her clear skin glistened almost as much as her oiled legs. She must have covered herself with some kind of body lotion. I noticed that the sheen carried right down into the crack of her ass. Pulling back a bit, as if applying professional scrutiny, I checked out her entire behind, searching for a panty line. I couldn't see one.

"No," I said, recovering a little. "It looks perfect."

"What looks perfect, Jeffrey?" Mrs. Hammond asked in a definitely throaty voice, a sound that implied she knew exactly where I was looking.

"Uh, your... I mean, you, look perfect."

"It feels as if the dress is sitting crooked."

I looked. The deepest part of the 'V' was sitting directly above Mrs. Hammond's crack.

"No, it's perfect," I said.

She ignored my answer. "Could you fix it, please?"

Mrs. Hammond arched her back even more, accenting the line of her spine.

Tentatively, I placed my hands on her hips, then rubbed the dress to the right and back to the left, leaving it where it originally was.

"No, silly," Mrs. Hammond purred. "Use your finger to line it up."

Line it up? She could only mean the apex of the 'V' and the crack of her ass. I crooked the tip of each index finger under the dress and slowly brought them down to the apex of the 'V' until they were resting at the top of her crack.

"Make sure it's perfect," Mrs. Hammond whispered. 

I wiggled my fingertips around in the crack of her ass for a few seconds. Mrs. Hammond turned her head sideways but didn't say anything and I took her motion to be tacit approval for what I was doing. When she finally pulled forward, my fingers were pressed as far as they could go inside the dress, a good couple of inches along her ass crack. Mrs. Hammond spun around to face me.

"Thank you, Jeffrey," she whispered. "Mr. Hammond isn't very good at that."

"No problem," I whispered back, my voice shaking.

"Could you fix my front too?" she asked, looking down. Though it was impossible to miss her nipple peeking out, Mrs. Hammond ignored it.

I hooked my fingers under the lapels of Mrs. Hammond's dress and pretended to adjust it too. Despite the fact that she was watching me, I moved the dress about more boldly, lifting it from her chest and pulling it aside to provide an unobstructed view of each breast. I ran my fingers up and down the length of the lapels several times, holding it away from her chest all the way up and all the way down. In the end, forgetting myself, I stopped and simply held the dress apart, staring at her slopey, hanging little tits.

"Do you think they're too small, Jeffrey?"

I hadn't noticed but I suddenly became distinctly aware that Mrs. Hammond, while I was playing with her dress, had moved closer to me and her pelvis was now pressing against my jeans. She wiggled on my erection. Flustered, I forgot to answer her question. 

"Mr. Hammond thinks they are." She wiggled again.

"No. No. I don't ... I think they're ... perfect."

Another wiggle.

"You're just saying that." 

Wiggle.

Was she kidding? Even though they were small and slopey, they were still kind of meaty and her nipples were standing out very prominently now, much more than when she first came down the stairs. 

"No. They're perfect," I said, enthralled.

"How can you tell, just by looking?" Mrs. Hammond husked.

I moved my hands closer until they hovered over Mrs. Hammond's perky tits. Unsure of myself, I balked. 

"Can I?" I asked, stupidly.

"Of course," she breathed. "You've been ever so helpful."

I cupped my hands under her breasts and gently brought them up into contact. Mrs. Hammond wiggled against me as soon as our skin met. 

"I told you I'd be grateful if you could help me with Billy. It's ok, Jeffrey, they won't break."

I squeezed her lemons, pinching her stiff nipples in the crook between my thumbs and the edge of my hands. The were long enough to poke through.

"That's nice, Jeffrey," Mrs. Hammond husked, pressing harder against my erection and maintaining the pressure. "Very nice."

I played with her tits for another minute before she spoke again.

"Would you like to kiss them, Jeffrey?" 

I nodded. Mrs. Hammond simply looked at me with a blank expression, neither offering nor declining her wares. I leaned closer but her expression didn't change. I dipped my head but failed to elicit a different response. Feeling as if I was leaping off a cliff, I ducked down and pressed my lips onto the upper swell of her right breast. I was afraid to do more. I didn't even move my lips. Mrs. Hammond grasped my head gently and moved my mouth onto her straining nipple.

"Suck it, Jeffrey."

I pulled at it with trembling lips, then brought the tip of my tongue to bear from underneath and sucked.

<i>Yeah, oh yeah,</i> I thought, my true enthusiasm surfacing.

Mrs. Hammond pushed her nipple into my mouth, reflecting my enthusiasm with her own.

"I told you I'd be very grateful, Jeffrey. If you help me some more with Billy, I can be even more grateful. A mother will do anything to help her son." 

"I'll do whatever you need me to do," I responded eagerly.

I bent my head and Mrs. Hammond leaned back, lifting her other nipple up to my hungry mouth. That's when Mr. Hammond's car came screeching into the driveway.

"Oh, shit. He's early," Mrs. Hammond cursed, pushing me away and pulling her dress as closed as it could get, which wasn't much. "Go into the kitchen. Hurry!"

I ran into the kitchen and stood in the corner farthest from the doorway, scared shitless. The door burst open.

"Where have you been?" Mrs. Hammond demanded.

"Traffic, I got stuck in traffic," Mr. Hammond answered, sounding taken aback by her angry tone. 

"I'll get that," Mrs. Hammond said. There was a heavy thump as something big hit the floor, followed by the rattle of golf clubs. 

"Jesus, why are you wearing that?"

"Why not?" Mrs. Hammond's voice was rebellious.

"For Christ's sake, Vanessa, Billy will be home soon."

"Okay, okay. I'll change. Go up and get a shower. You stink."

"Alright, but I'm already late to meet Benson."

"It won't hurt him to wait for you for a change."

"Aren't you coming?" Mr. Hammond yelled as he thumped up the stairs.

"I have to put some things away in the kitchen first."

Something weird was going on. Evidently, Mr. Hammond wasn't taking his wife out to any fancy luncheon. That was all a charade. I was scared and wanted to get the hell out of there. As soon as I heard his footsteps retreating down the hallway, I peeked around the edge of the doorway, ready to make a beeline for the front door, but Mrs. Hammond pushed me back into the kitchen.

"Wait Jeffrey," she said, one hand on my chest holding me back as I tried to push my way through the kitchen doorway. "Promise me you'll still help me with Billy."

I cast a worried look up the stairs. "I said I would," I said, trying to push through her.

"Promise me," she insisted, noting and laughing at my fear.

"I promise," I said, solemnly. "Please, let me go."

"Seal it, with a kiss," Mrs. Hammond laughed huskily, clearly amused by my fright.

"Mrs. Hammond, your husband is right upstairs," I said, glancing upstairs again, clearly worried.

"I know, and think how angry he'd be if he knew what you were doing to his wife." The laugh deepened.

"Mrs. Hammond," I cried, exasperated.

"Just one kiss, Jeffrey," Mrs. Hammond husked, stepping forward and melting against me. 

Her body sagged on mine as if she was falling and I grabbed her. She laughed and threw her arms around my neck. 

"Touch my tits while you kiss me."

Her mouth was on mine. Man, Janet had nothing on Mrs. Hammond when it came to mouth work. The shocking sexuality of her lips and tongue made me immediately wonder what her mouth would feel like on my cock. Way better than Janet's, I bet. The kiss was long, despite my fear of Mr. Hammond's presence, and when it finally ended I was surprised that my hands were on Mrs. Hammonds tits. It wasn't until she released my neck and grabbed my hands that I was even aware that I had been mauling her breasts.

"Fix my dress," Mrs. Hammond whispered, pushing my hands down to her hips and pulling them onto her ass.

"Mrs. Hammond..."

"Don't worry. He's in the shower."

I listened for the sound of water but couldn't hear anything except the ringing in my ears. Mrs. Hammond was rubbing my hands over her tight little butt.

"He never lets me go without panties," she purred, straining up to recapture my mouth.

We kissed again and I forgot about Mr. Hammond, forgot about being beaten to pulp or even killed. I forgot everything except the feel of Mrs. Hammond's snake-like tongue and the moist pull of her knawing lips, and the wonderful feel of her ass with its twin, lively, independent muscles. I snatched at the dress, scrunching it up until my hands held her bare flesh. Her tongue twisted wildly inside my mouth and her arms tightened around my neck. I squeezed her fucking gorgeous ass and pushed my fingers between her legs, tasting the moistness underneath. I couldn't believe this hot woman was twice my age and the mother of my best friend. 

Mrs. Hammond pulled away and spoke hoarsely over our ragged breathing.

"Will you . . . do what I want."

"Yes," I hissed.

"Good," she said. After pausing for a deep breath, she added, "You won't regret it." 

I noticed for the first time how wide Mrs. Hammond's mouth was, sensually surrounded by thick, pouting lips. She's have no trouble taking my cock. I moved closer but Mrs. Hammond pushed me away.
<hr pg="5" />"You should go now."

I walked reluctantly to the door that I had so desperately wanted to run to only moments before.

"Jeffrey?"

I whirled around.

"I know about you and Billy and those two girls."

Shit. Was she mad? I couldn't tell.

"I think that's a good idea, getting Billy interested in a girl. Good work."

I started back toward her but she waved me off.

"I'll call you," Mrs. Hammond said as I passed through the door. 

I turned to acknowledge that I had heard. She was standing in the kitchen doorway, hip cocked against the jamb, much like she had stood the last time I left her. Only this time, she was holding the hem of the skirt up, way up, so high that one hip and her pelvis was exposed, almost baring the pussy hidden between her tightly closed thighs except for a tuft of medium brown, curly hair. I stumbled backward out the door, my attempt to grab it swinging it shut.

"I'll call you," Mrs. Hammond laughed as I fell through the door.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

I was in quite a state when I got home, still sporting a raging boner over Mrs. Hammond. I couldn't get her outrageous parting stance out of my mind and the pouting smile blessing her wide lips as she spoke, "I'll call you."

Whatever the fuck it was she wanted me to do, I'd do it. Maybe she hated her son as much as he hated her. If she wanted me to kill him, I'd do it and then rush over to collect my prize with his blood still on my hands. 

Here I was, still a virgin but within two days I had received my first blowjob, eaten my first pussy, fondled two sets of tits, and grabbed an incredible ass. One thing was certain. Though Janet Johnson was one of the hottest chicks at school, I wanted Mrs. Hammond more. She was so fucking hot. I had pictured her pretty face looking up at me all the way home, her mouth full of my cock. I knew for sure she fucked, and maybe not as much as she wanted to. Fuck, she was so sexy. I bet she wouldn't make me wear a rubber. No way. 

She was a proper woman, not a spoiled brat like Janet. If you had asked me which one I'd prefer two days ago, the answer would have been in Janet's favor. But not now. Even if she would put out, I still wanted Mrs. Hammond more. Janet said my prick was bigger than Brent's so maybe it was bigger than Mr. Hammond's too. Maybe that's why she had gone so far. I could see her teasing me a little to enlist my aid but not as far as she had gone. She must really need it after feeling my dick. Billy was just an excuse. 

In my room, I retrieved the dolls and set the one of Mrs. Hammond on the bed. I pulled out my cock and started pulling on it while I looked at the doll, pausing only to flick the doll's dress up over its ass. Man, I could hardly wait to do Mrs. Hammond's bidding as an excuse to get the next prize.

The sound of Mom's voice broke into my thoughts. I walked to the window, half crouching with my meat jutting out in front of me. Mom was sitting below me in a lounge chair, talking on her cell phone. Unfortunately, she wasn't wearing a bikini but the summer dress she had on had dropped from her knees and slid way up her thighs because her feet were tucked up tight to her bum. Above her like I was, I could look over her shoulder and down between her legs. I ran back and picked up the Mom doll.

I uttered the magic words, "Obla di, Obla da, On your knees, Ready to please," then pushed the doll's dress up over its hips. I waited.

Mom continued chatting for half a minute without reacting. I was about to repeat the chant when she suddenly dropped one hand and casually pulled her dress back and up onto her tummy, baring her panties. My hand recaptured my cock and I started stroking it as I listened to the half of Mom's conversation I could hear.

"No, I'm all alone. I don't know where he is."

"You're kidding? In your backyard?"

"No way. I couldn't. Not in the buff."

"I know it's private here but..."

"Vanessa, you aren't? Not with Billy home. Oh..." Mom sounded disappointed. "On Sunday."

Shit. Mom was talking to Mrs. Hammond. I strained my ears, trying to hear the other side of the conversation but I couldn't hear a word, just a faint buzz from the phone.

"That's crazy," Mom said. "Yes, I'm sure it will get his attention."

There was a longer pause while Mom listened.

"Yes, I know he's getting out of control but this is a little unconventional, to say the least."

"I know you've tried everything else, and yes, I know what Joan did but that was for something completely different."

Mom couldn't know I was helping Mrs. Hammond turn Billy around. No way. She would never put up with what Mrs. Hammond was doing if she knew. I know she had been behind me helping Billy years ago in school but that was because she thought it was a good thing for me to learn, helping others. But to help Billy in return for sexual favors from his mother, that was something else entirely. No, Mom couldn't know what Mrs. Hammond was up to, at least as far as it concerned me. Relief flooded through me. It was only then I realized I was gripping my cock painfully. I let it go. 

Despite my relief, my head swam with questions. What was Mrs. Hammond doing with Billy that she was telling Mom about? It sounded like she doing something in front of Billy in the backyard&#x2014;tanning in the nude, maybe? What was Gary's mom doing that was similar? It was Gary that had told Billy about the voodoo doll. Did Gary really think the doll was making his mother do things for him? Had Mrs. Hammond asked Gary's mom to get him to tell Billy about the doll so she could similarly improve Billy's behavior? Didn't she know Billy hated her and would try sticking pins in it rather than using it to get her to be nice to him? Did she think the ploy had failed because Billy was too juvenile and that was why she was working through me?

"Joan's playing a very dangerous game, Vanessa."

Despite Mom's remonstration her right hand strayed onto her panties and her fingers folded over her mound and dug between her legs. Several twists of her wrist back and forth eased Mom's legs apart.

"Yes, I know what Joan did with Gary, Vanessa, but that was different. Gary was afraid to leave the house. He needed confidence and Joan found a way to give it to him. Billy isn't afraid of anything. What if you can't control him? What if you can't turn him off?"

Mom's hand became more active. I was amazed at the way she carried on a conversation in an even tone while actively stimulating herself. She dug herself deeper into the lounge and slid her hips forward. Her fingers slipped underneath the waistband of her panties and dug deep, real deep, so I knew she had inserted her fingers into her cunt. Her head tipped back and she arched her back, losing herself to self stimulation. It had to have something to do with the doll, even though I wasn't touching it. I had never seen Mom be sexual until the past few days.

"What? Yes, I'm still here. You've already started . . . and how did it go? I see. Mom listened for a minute, then responded in a breathless voice, "It's harder than you thought? Me? No, never. Jeff would never look at me like that. Anyway, I couldn't do anything like that."

"Why not? Because Jeff doesn't get into trouble like Billy does."

"If he did? No, definitely not. There would be other ways to handle it."

"He what?"

The alarm in Mom's voice raised my hackles.

"When?"

Oh, shit. Mrs. Hammond was telling Mom some of the shit she knew Billy and I had got into. Probably about the graffiti. I don't think she knew about the car and the store.

"A car? You're kidding."

Mom twisted her head up toward my bedroom window and I jerked back, though she couldn't have seen me the little bit she had turned. She turned her head back down and pulled her hand out of her panties.

"A store?"

That fucking bitch. That's it. She could go fuck herself. I wasn't having anything to do with her. 

"How do you know?"

There was a long pause in the conversation as Mom listened. Sometime during Mrs. Hammond's diatribe, I decided I would indeed fuck her if I was able to. My concern turned toward how I was going to pretend that I didn't know that she had spilled the goods to Mom. Maybe I'd fuck her real hard to teach her a lesson. Yeah, that's what I'd do. And once I got my cock in her mouth, without a rubber&#x2014;I was sure she would want it bareback once she saw it&#x2014;I'd let her have a full load in the face. 

"I see," Mom said, quietly.

"Uh huh."

"Mmmmm hmmm."

"Yup. So, once you have him eating out of your hand, so to speak, how are you going to shut him down without reverting to his old behavior?"

"A girl? How can you be sure he'll find a girl just in time?"

"You're arranging it? How are you..."

"Okay, your secret." 

Mrs. Hammond must be referring to the procurement of Wendy. Crap. How was I going to get back on track with Janet so I could get Billy hooked up with Wendy? Could I approach Wendy directly. No, probably not. Mom was talking. I'd missed something.

"...No, Vanessa. I simply couldn't."

A big pause.

"I don't know. I'll have to find another way to deal with Jeff."

Mom listened but I could see by the tilt of her head she wasn't buying whatever Mrs. Hammond was saying.

"No, I don't think that would work with Jeff. He wouldn't be interested. I'll have to find another way, that's all."

"No, I don't think you're being a bad mother. I think you're being an incredible mom. What you're doing is an amazing sacrifice for your son."

"I know I don't know the half of it and I don't think I want to know more."

"No, no. Call me anytime. I'm here for you."

"Okay. Goodbye."

Mom snapped her phone shut to end the call but held it in her hand, staring at it. A long moment passed. Mom's hand returned to her tummy. I thought she was going to push her dress down but her fingers stretched out onto her panty-covered mound. Another long moment passed before her fingers twitched once, then several more times. Her hips flexed, pushing her pelvis up. Once, twice, three times. Her fingers were moving constantly now, if slowly. 

Her longest finger arched into a wide curl and the tip teased up and down where I knew her groove must be. Mom tortured herself like this for a couple of minutes before laying her hand flat on her tummy and slipping her fingers under the waistband of her panties again. It wasn't long before the panties stretched over the back of her hand as she plunged her fingers vigorously in and out of her cunt. She had to be really wet because, even from up on the second floor, I could hear her fingers squishing noisily, easily able to distinguish the in-stroke from the out-stroke by sound alone. 

Mom suddenly pulled her knees high up toward her face while at the same time slouching down nearly flat except for her head, lifted as if to watch herself. The phone clattered to the patio as Mom yanked her panties down her thighs to her knees. Both hands disappeared behind herself, one moving slowly as if stroking something very delicate while the other began ramming in and out of a very wet sounding cunt.

I started wanking my cock furiously, matching the frenzied attack of Mom's right hand on her pussy. She started making sex sounds, similar to those I heard from the women in the fucking clips I watched on the web. I yanked harder.

"No, oh no," Mom protested to her invisible tormenter.

I ravaged my cock.

"No, don't," she mumbled, calling out a name too garbled to recognize. 

OMG, the head almost came off my cock. What was she imagining herself doing, or having done to her, and for/by whom? Her mumbling turned into a series of soft moans as she began to frig herself more furiously, then burst out, "No, we can't, it's so wrong."

Mom's thighs quivered as she tossed her feet about violently. Her head strained forward toward her pussy where her hand was plugged deep into her vibrating cunt. I shot my load out the window and watched each great gob of cum arc through the air and splat silently on the grass behind the lounge Mom was lying on. I stepped slowly, reluctantly, backward as Mom lowered her feet, her widespread legs still shaking uncontrollably with one foot on each side of the lounge, her mound pulsing slowly as her orgasm subsided.

Fucking hell! My mind was exploding with explicit images, my own legs weakening under the onslaught. I stumbled backward, collapsing on the bed with my pants around my knees, trying to shut out the disgusting vision of my cock filling the hole between my mother's legs.

I was saved from Purgatory by the sound of my phone.

"Jeffrey?" Mrs. Hammond inquired.

Oh, shit.

"Yeah," I responded, as casually as I could.

"I want to see you again," she stated, in a husky voice. "We have some unfinished business to discuss."

"When," I asked, cutting to the quick as I remembered the movement of her ass in my hand, the twisting of her mouth on mine, and the heat of her groin pressing suggestively against my erection. Despite her deviousness, my anger was overridden by lust. I still wanted her, any time, any place.

"Right now," she rasped. "Hurry."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

The door opened before I could ring the bell. Mrs. Hammond pulled me quickly into the kitchen.

"Shhhhh," she whispered, drawing me toward her. 

The sexy dress from this morning was gone. In its place, she wore a simple summer shift but she looked as sexy as ever. Mrs. Hammond noted my appreciation and she smiled approvingly as her arm curled around my neck. Her lips were on mine and the warmth of her pelvis was already making itself known to my perpetual erection. My query about Billy's whereabouts was smothered by Mrs. Hammond's mobile lips.

Still, I wondered where Billy was. The conversation between Mrs. Hammond and Mom implied she was displaying her body to her son. After I thought about it, that didn't square up because I knew Billy was working. On the way here, I concluded that he must have been let out of his shift. So, where was he? Why was his mother kissing me like this and pressing her pussy against my cock?

"Where's Billy?" I gasped, when she finally let me go.

"At work," Mrs. Hammond cried, pulling me in for another kiss.

"But, then, who was here?"

"What are you talking about?" she asked, pulling away and looking at me quizzically.

Oh shit. I was giving myself away. 

"Nothing," I stammered. "I just thought someone was..."

"Mr. Hammond is in his study. That's why I shushed you," Mrs. Hammond giggled.

"Mr. Hammond..." I tried to pull away but Mrs. Hammond grabbed my arm and yanked my hand down between her legs.

"Do you want to touch it?" she asked.

I looked down to where Mrs. Hammond held my wrist, my hand dangling between her bare legs just below the hem of her short dress. 

"But, Mr. Hammond..."

"Do you want to or not?" she asked, teasingly thrusting herself forward until my the hem of her dress covered my fingers.

My tongue swelled up and I couldn't say anything. 

"Of course you do," Mrs. Hammond purred. "Go ahead, touch it."

I tried to turn my head to make sure Mr. Hammond wasn't behind me but I couldn't move it. I stared as my hand disappeared deeper under Mrs. Hammond's skirt. My fingers bumped into the inside of her right thigh and skidded upward until my knuckles scraped along the inside of her left. The tips of my fingers nudged her panties. I made an unintelligible sound as they found and plied a damp furrow. Mrs. Hammond gripped my arm hard, freezing further progress.

"Promise me," she hissed.

"What?"

"Promise me."

"I promise." 

"Not yet. Promise me you'll give the doll back to Billy."

WTF? She knew about the doll?

"I don't know..."

"Cut the crap. Mrs. Robinson and I are friends," Mrs. Hammond said. "I know about the doll. I asked her to get Gary to tell Billy about it."

Of course. Gary used to play with Billy and I when we were kids before he became a super geek. By grade eleven, he was friendless, a real loner. Billy be-friended with him again because he wanted Gary to hack into the school computer to fix our grades. Unfortunately, Billy's patience wore thin and he became heavy-handed with Gary, fucking it up when he was just about to do it. Gary dropped out of school. Word was he was afraid being bullied. Nice job Billy.

"Gary's mother used a doll of herself to turn him around and now he's back to normal. If it can work for Gary, it can do the same for Billy, and you're not going to say a word about it, are you?"

Mrs. Hammond's hand relaxed for a moment and moved mine up and down, dragging my fingers across her warm panties.

I shook my head.

"Say it."

"I'm won't say a thing," I said.

"Good boy, Jeffrey." 

Mrs. Hammond sounded sufficiently pleased that she allowed my fingers to graze back and forth across her panties.

"Do you like feeling my panties feel, Jeffrey?"

I nodded and was glad she didn't make me confirm it out loud because my throat was dry.

"Would you like to touch it for real, Jeffrey?" Mrs. Hammond moved closer, releasing my hand and curling her arm around my neck again.

"Yes," I managed to squeak out.

"Good," she purred, turning her head sideways and breathing into my ear. She pushed her panties hard onto my hand. "Give the doll back to Billy. Tell him you ran into Gary and he said it really works. Alright, Jeffrey?"

Mrs. Hammond humped herself on my hand and I turned it inward to cup her throbbing mound. I nodded again. Obviously, Gary's mom was using the doll somehow to get him back into the real world. Whether she was using it the same way that Mrs. Hammond had in mind, I had no idea but I wasn't about to ruin my chances for more of Mrs. Hammond by telling her that Billy was more interested in sticking pins in his doll than making nice.

"Do that, Jeffrey, and I'll let you take my panties off."

Mrs. Hammond turned my face toward hers and plunged her tongue into my mouth. I worked my hand over her pussy and accidentally slipped my thumb under the leg, plunging it into her wet slickness.

"Oh yes, Jeffrey. Just like that, but you have to convince Billy the doll will only work if he cleans up his act."

Mrs. Hammond didn't pull away, so I pushed my thumb completely inside her. 

"No way," she said. "You have to do your job before you sample the goods."

She twisted and slipped off my thumb with ease. Lust turned to disappointment and then to fear when I heard a door opening behind me.

"Vanessa, do you know where..."

"Oh. Hello, Jeff. I...uh...haven't see you for a while."

Mr. Hammond was clearly surprised to see me and it looked like my presence was awkward for him. I surmised that Mrs. Hammond had made lots of derogatory comments about me for the past few years, changing his opinion of me, and that seeing me in the house was a surprise even though he probably knew Billy still hung out with me. He couldn't have felt more uncomfortable than me, standing in front of him with a thumb freshly slick from his wife's cunt.

"Jeff was looking for Billy. He should be home from work soon," Mrs. Hammond explained my presence. She smiled at her husband, signaling her approval. He nodded and reached out to shake my hand.

"Good to see you again, Jeff, " he said. "Don't be a stranger."

I took his hand in mine and folded my slick thumb around his.

"I won't, Mr. Hammond," I replied, knowing it was one promise I would definitely keep.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

I had to admit to Billy that the date wasn't going to happen. 

"You dumbfuck," Billy swore. "I could have gotten into her pants. I mean, right in the slippery-dippery, and you had to get into a fight with Janet."

Billy slugged me in the shoulder. It hurt.

"Fuck off," I said, flinching.
<hr pg="6" />"I should fucking lay a good one on you." Billy hit me again.

"Fuck them," I retorted, wincing. "We don't need them."

"Bullshit. I was about to get laid," Billy yelled.

"You were about to get zip," I shouted back.

"Bull fucking shit!" Billy exclaimed, getting really agitated. "I was about to get fucked."

"You were about to get sweet fuck all, just like me."

"Bullshit!"

"They don't fuck," I yelled.

"What?"

"They don't fuck. Neither of them. Janet told me. A little fingering and a handjob, maybe a blowjob, but that's it."

"Bullshit. Wendy was about to drop her pants."

"Bullshit," I responded, derisively.

"I was about to..."

"No, Billy. You were going to get sweet fuck all."

Billy started to speak and I shook my head. His argument sputtered to a stop.

"So what have you been getting all week, then?" he asked. "You've been getting something. I can see it in your face."

"Nothing."

"Bullshit!"

"Okay. Can you keep a secret?"

"WTF?"

"Okay, okay. But you can't breathe a word about this. I mean it."

"Done. Spill it. Who you been doing?"

"No one."

"Bullshit. I..."

"Not yet," I cut Billy off. "Listen, you remember how Gary said those dolls really work?"

"The dolls? Who gives a fuck about the dolls. What's that got to do with..."

"Well, they do."

"What?"

"They work, but they're not the sticking-pins-in kind of dolls. They only work if you're nice to them."

"Nice to them?" Billy started laughing. "What the fuck are you talking about, some kind of lovey-dovey dolls?"

"Listen," I spoke vehemently. "I found out Gary Robinson's been getting his mom to do stuff."

"Do stuff? What do you mean, do stuff?"

"I mean..." my mind scrambled for something to say. "I mean, he's been getting her to be nice to him and letting him do stuff with her."

"What do you mean, 'do stuff'?" 

"You know. She lets him fuck around with her. She can't help it. It's the doll. And she ain't bad, Gary's old lady," I added.

"You mean..." Comprehension dawned in Billy's eyes. "Holy fuck. I couldn't do anything like that with my old lady," his face screwed up in disgust. 

"You don't have to," I broke in, "but you can make her be nice to you if you're nice to the doll."

"How do you know. What did Gary tell..."

"Nothing," I interrupted. "I tried it myself."

"You what?"

"I tried it myself. I was nice to the doll, and then Mom was nice to me."

"You were nice to the doll?" Billy guffawed. "You were nice to the doll?" Billy threw himself around in a circle, crouching, then doubling up with laughter. "Nice to the doll," he cried, hysterically.

I couldn't help but laugh along with him.

"And what did she do for you?"

I stopped laughing. "Nothing. I just stroked it a bit and Mom was nice to me. I found out by accident."

"What do you mean, she was nice to you?"

"I'm not talking about what my mom did."

"Well, your old lady is nice anyway so that doesn't prove a thing. Anyway, I'm not doing anything nice for my old lady, or to no look-alike doll."

I played my trump card.

"I mean my mom was more than nice, but no sweat, I'll take the doll back."

"I thought you already did?"

"Nope. Mine was working, so I thought..."

"Give it to me."

"I thought you didn't want to be nice to her."

"I don't," Billy insisted. "But I don't want anyone else doing anything nice to her either."

I cringed. Did he suspect?

"Fifty bucks," I said.

"Fuck off. Just give it to me."

"Fifty bucks," I insisted.

"No way."

"A hundred by Monday."

"Okay, fifty. Where is it?"

"At home. I'll give it to you tomorrow."

"Tonight."

"Tomorrow."

"Tonight!" Billy grabbed my arm.

"What does it matter. You said you ain't going to use it."

"I ain't, I'm just making sure no one else can, dumbfuck."

"Fine. Do what you want."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

I gave the doll to Billy and he left. I was in. Fuck, my cock was so hard just thinking about it, picturing her luscious little butt bending over the end of the couch, and hammering into it. Fuck, I'd have to grab her hair to keep her head still, I'd fuck her so hard. Once she felt my meat, instead of what her limp-dick husband had to offer, she'd never play games again&#x2014;she'd be begging for it.

So the doll shit was bullshit. Gary's mom had started it, getting one from that old black bitch to help her aches and pains and then, somehow, to get Gary to come out of his shell. She must have told Mrs. Robinson, maybe even suggested she try it to solve her problems with Billy, and Mom knew about it.

Shit. Mom knew about my hijinks with Billy too. I wondered what she was going to do? She had told Billy's mom that she'd have to handle me a different way because she thought I wouldn't be interested in her. Wait a minute. Did that mean she'd actually do what Gary's mom was doing and Billy's mom was planning to do? My own mother?

No, it couldn't, she didn't even know Billy had got a doll of her made too. That sucked. Billy had got one made of Mom on his own and I guess that old black vulture hadn't said anything. It was just as well. Obviously, from the one-sided conversation I'd just overheard, Mom wasn't into using her body to tease me into better behavior, even after hearing how bad I was. 

Or, was she?

I would love to play along and pretend the doll worked. Actually, I had to admit, there was something about the doll. As I already noted, Mom had never been so sexual, at least not when I was around. What other explanation was there for that bump on Mom's head, the scene on the yoga mat in the living room, and the episode out in the yard? Could all three be coincidences? 

Evidently so. I had heard Mom tell Mrs. Hammond she definitely wasn't into even the pretense of entertaining a sexual relation with her son. Too bad, because Mom had a nice body. It was one thing to watch her get herself off and jack off over it, but it was quite another to think about actually doing something with her. When I thought about it, she looked hotter than Mrs. Hammond. I wondered if she really was, then put it out of my mind. It wasn't right to think about that.

I picked up the doll but had to find a hiding place for it where Mom wouldn't find it. While I was holding it, I heard Mom calling to Dad in his studio and him answering. They talked back and forth, neither one bothering to get closer to hear the other, so their voices remained loud enough for me to hear upstairs in my room with the door closed. 

Mom even had a nice voice. It was compatible with her good looks and hot body. Hot body? There it was again. How long had I been thinking about Mom that way? Stupid. I looked at the doll. My thumb was rubbing the front of its lower legs. While I watched, my finger slid under its dress and up the back of its thighs. A moment later, my thumb did the same up the front of its skirt. Upon hearing Mom's voice again, I spread the doll's legs and pressed my thumb into the juncture where they joined. As I rubbed the doll there, my finger scratched its panties down from behind until they were around the doll's knees. I used my other hand to pull the tiny panties off and threw them away, then slipped my hand inside my sweatpants to grasp my cock. 

What if the doll really did work? What if those times weren't coincidences? I mean, how could they be, all three of them? What if the doll worked in general rather than specifically, like if I did things to make the doll get hot and it influenced Mom's behavior? That thought made me remember how the doll got always got warm when I played with it, and that wasn't my imagination. So, what if Mom got horny when I worked the doll up and she just had to pleasure herself? What if I got the doll hot just before she reproached me for the stuff she'd heard that Billy and I had done? I knew a confrontation was coming. Maybe if I got the doll hot every time we were alone in the house, she'd be horny when she talked to me about it and she might to what Gary's and Billy's moms were doing. 

I brought the doll closer and pushed its dress up to its neck, revealing tiny, anatomically correct tits which looked surprisingly real. I brought the doll up to my mouth and licked its legs, then pushed the tip of my tongue between its thighs and flicked at its fake cunt. Oh yeah, that part was realistic too. For the next ten minutes, I licked and caressed the doll, at times feeling stupid but persevering anyway. It was worth a try.

I pushed the doll under my mattress and left my room, approaching the top of the stairs quietly. Dad was speaking to Mom.

"Whatever," she answered, not bothering to look up from the magazine she was reading.

Mom was lying on the couch, broadside to me. She was wearing a stretchy exercise type top and a knee-length skirt which had slid down from her bent up knees upon which the magazine rested. From the side, I could see most of her legs, even the underside of her thighs. I knew right then that I wanted her, more than Janet, and more than Mrs. Hammond. She looked so sexy with her perfectly proportioned, well-looked-after body and tawny, shoulder-length hair. Oh yes. I desired this woman and I didn't need my stiffening cock to tell me so.

I wanted to run my fingers up and down the backs of those soft, sexy thighs. As the thought passed through my mind, Mom dropped her right hand to the side of her leg and lazily scratched her fingers up and down the length of her thigh, from bum to knee. Hard, Jesus, I was already hard. 

Mom didn't look up or say anything when I sat down on the end of the couch but she pulled her feet up a little to make room for me. I looked straight ahead for a minute or so but gradually looked her way. I didn't move my head. At first, I merely glanced but eventually turned slightly, just enough to look at her pressed together knees, whereupon I realized the magazine blocked Mom's view of me. I lowered my eyes, dropping below Mom's tightly fitted knees until I could look between the inverted 'V' of her calves. 

Ah, God in Heaven, the back of Mom's gorgeous thighs and between them, her panties. Thank God Mom couldn't see me because I had inadvertently lowered my head for a better view. I was fascinated by the way Mom's panties swept up and over a puffy part in front of her legs. Her mound. Saliva swirled around my tongue and almost drooled out the corner of my mouth. I stared hard, looking for stray hairs peeking out, then sought evidence of the groove between her pussy lips. 

"Jeff."

I jerked my head up.

"Yes?"

"I want to talk to you about something."

Here it comes. My chest constricted and I remained silent.

"Did you hear me?"

"Yes."

"I've heard that you've been getting into a little trouble lately."

Mom paused for effect, waiting for me to say something but I didn't speak. My heart was beating too fast anyway. Mom hadn't lowered the magazine, so I let my head droop down to sneak another peak at her puffy panties. What if the doll thing actually worked? Excitement coursed through me.

"I think we should nip this in the bud, before it gets out of hand."

"Yeah?" I replied.

Dad called out. Mom yelled back, "I'm busy now."

"Why doesn't he come in here to speak to you?" I asked.

"He wanted me to help him set up some lighting but I'm busy."

"I can see that," I said.

"Well, he wouldn't come in here to put lotion on my rash, so he can do his own damn lighting."

"You've got a rash?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"On my legs."

"Oh."

"About the trouble you've been..."

"Is it itchy?"

"The rash? Yes."

"Do you want me to put the lotion on?"

"No." Pause. "Well, I suppose you could. Would you mind?"

"I just asked you if you wanted me to."

"Sure, that would be nice."

"Where is it?"

"On the back of my legs."

"I mean...where's the lotion?"

"Oh. Here." 

Mom reached behind her head and passed me a squeeze bottle of lotion that had been on the end table. She passed it to me and as I opened it, I realized that she hadn't once looked at me. Mom had kept her face below the top edge of the magazine. I squeezed a bit of lotion onto my fingers. It smelled liked medical stuff. Fleeting disappointment passed through me as it dawned on me that Mom really did have a rash.

"Where?"

"Here," Mom wiggled her right foot. "Above my ankle."

I pressed my fingers around Mom's ankle and rubbed up her legs a few inches, then rubbed down and around her Achilles tendon. I spread the lotion slowly and gently, surprised by how enjoyable it was to touch my mother this way, something I couldn't remember ever doing. It wasn't completely sexual, despite the boner between my own legs, it was also just nice. I rubbed and rubbed, working the lotion in well. 

"Higher," Mom said.

"What?"

"Higher. The rash goes right up to my knee."

"Oh." 

I put more lotion on my fingers and pressed them against the meaty part of Mom's calf. I didn't see any evidence of a rash there but I hadn't really seen any by her ankle either. Mom was quiet while I moved my fingers lightly up and down her leg, gradually pressing more firmly and kneading her calf muscles. 

"Mmmmmmm," Mom murmured.

I moved my fingers beyond the muscle into the hollow under Mom's knee and tickled some lotion around the soft, pulpy skin there. It was strangely exciting because I was pushing into a haven, an area more sacrosanct than the back of a leg. I loved the softness and the forbidden feel of it. It crossed my mind that Mom didn't need help to put lotion on the back of her legs, from Dad or me, and that made the whole thing feel slightly wrong, and therefore more exciting. 

"Do the other leg, Jeff. It's itchy too."

Obediently, I put some lotion on the fingers of my other hand and applied it to the back of Mom's other calf. As I worked it up and down that leg, Mom's knees parted a bit more so I put more sideways pressure on her legs to move them farther apart. Additional light and a wider view revealed what I'd been seeking earlier: evidence of Mom's pussy lips, a shallow groove running part way up the center of her panties. My cock ached.

I replenished my fingers with a generous amount of lotion and, pressing it against the meaty part of Mom's left calf, quickly pushed it up into the hollow of that knee. I worked it around the soft tissue in gentle circles, then slowly converted the swirling motion of my fingers to pushes in and out. This was crazy! It was like I was finger-fucking the back of Mom's knee. I had put so much lotion on, it almost felt like Janet's pussy and even made a faint squishing sound. Mom hadn't made a sound, not a single peep, but I sensed the squishy sound of the lotion was making her uncomfortable.

"Whoa, too much lotion," I whispered and moved my hand over to her upper leg and wiped it down the underside of her thigh. Mom's muscles tensed in surprise, as did my whole body. What the fuck was I doing? I was suddenly afraid I had gone too far.

And, I was right. Mom's knees locked together.

"Jeff, I don't have a rash there."

"Oh, uh...I know, I mean, I didn't think so, I was just...I just got too much lotion on my hand and I was wiping it off," I offered up my lame excuse.

Though Mom couldn't see it, I was blushing furiously, but I'm sure she probably knew that from the faltering sound of my voice. 

"I see. Well, thanks for putting it on. That was very helpfu,." Mom said while smoothing her skirt down to her knees.

"No problem. Anytime, Mom," I gushed, immediately worried I sounded too eager and thus making my lecherous intentions obvious.

Mom started to reply but Dad startled me by walking into the room. I hadn't heard him coming. 

"Can you not help me for a few minutes?" he demanded testily.

Mom ignored the restrained aggression in his voice, replying simply, "Jeff can help you."

"But he doesn't know lighting like you do," Dad replied, looking at me and adding, "no offense, Jeff." 

I shook my head to acknowledge his skepticism was well-placed but Mom repeated herself, "Jeff can help you."

"Fine," Dad turned and stomped away.

I got up and followed my father, both reluctant and relieved to leave Mom. I pissed around for almost an hour helping Dad set up the lighting for his planned shoot. Evidently, he had promised to do a session for the young wife of a new couple that had recently moved into our community. I sat in various poses, sitting and reclining, that Dad planned to shoot while he adjusted the lights, took shots, and made notes. Between thoughts about what had just happened with Mom on the couch, I wondered why he wasn't taking his new 'model' into the studio at the office instead of bringing her here and what Mom thought about it. Maybe that's why she didn't feel like helping him?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

"What else did Gary tell you?" Billy asked. 

"Nothing," I whispered. I had just gone to bed when he called and had already told him what I knew.

"Are you sure?" Before I could answer, he asked, "What did you do to the doll to get your old lady to be nice?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," I answered his first question. "All I did was treat the doll nice and Mom was nice to me."

"What do you mean, 'treat the doll nice'?"

"Just touch it real nice. You know, rub it up and stuff."

"Didn't you feel stupid doing that?"

"Yes," I answered honestly, "but the payoff is worth it."

"Yeah? What did your mom do to be 'nice'?"

"I told you, that's not your concern."

"Come on," Billy pleaded. "My old lady said she wants to talk to me after Dad goes to bed. She's going to dump on me for sure. I need to do something to this fucking doll so she lightens up. What were those words, I mean, how did you say them? I forgot."

"Don't worry about that mumbo jumbo," I said. "It doesn't matter. It's the way you treat the doll that matters."

"Are you sure?" 

"Look Billy, if you don't want her to dump a load of crap on you, be nice to the doll, real nice, for at least twenty minutes, no, half an hour, before you see her. Touch it as if it's a real chick."

"Fuck, I don't know if I can do that. It looks a lot like her."

"If you don't want to catch it, you'll do it. And no fuck-ups. Don't pinch it or anything."

"Okay, okay. I'll do it. This better work or you're in for it."

"Goodnight Billy."

Click.

I turned over and closed my eyes. Pictures of Mom and the underside of her thighs filled my head.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

"Jeff?"

"What? What the fuck time is it?"

"I don't know, midnight, maybe later." Billy was breathing hard like he was really excited.

"What the fuck do you want?"

"You won't believe it. You just won't believe it," he cried, trying to keep his voice down but failing. I had to hold the phone away from my ear.

"Believe what?"

"My old lady," he whispered intensely. "When Dad went to bed, she reminded me she wanted to talk to me and told me to get changed into my pajamas and come back downstairs. Pajamas!" Billy exclaimed. "When was the last time I wore pajamas? So I put on some of the ones she always buys me for Christmas, they're like brand new, and I goes back downstairs. Well! She comes down and she's changed for bed, too. You should have seen what she was wearing. She had on this long silky robe and, I'm telling you, there wasn't much underneath it, just some sexy pajamas or something. I mean, shit, I could see her tits bouncing around, her nipples and everything. Christ, I thought she was flat but in this thing, shit, they stuck right out. The old bitch looked pretty good."

Billy stopped to breathe.

"So what happened?" I asked. Did she give you shit?"

"No, that's the thing. It worked. That thing with the doll must have worked. I rubbed the hell out of it and it paid off, big time. I owe you man, I really owe you."
<hr pg="7" />Intrigued, I sat up in bed.

"What happened?" I repeated.

"No way," Billy laughed. "That's none of your concern."

"Okay, whatever. See ya," I said, but instead of closing the phone I held it open and waited. 

"Wait! I was only kidding," 

I knew he couldn't pass up an opportunity to brag. I waited.

"You still there?"

"Yup."

"So Mom&#x2014;that was startling; I couldn't remember the last time Billy called his old lady Mom&#x2014;turns the lamp by the couch down to its lowest setting and sits down. Then she turns off the TV and pats the seat beside her, telling me to sit there. So I did."

Billy took a deep breath.

"So I'm sitting there, trying not to look at the way her tits are hanging out under that flimsy robe, so I end up staring at her legs. Well, they look pretty good too. I mean, why is she dressed like that? So I realize I'm gawking at her legs and I look up at her but she adjusts her robe so it gets parted way to the side and then I can see this nightie that's all that's covering her tits, I mean half of them anyway, I can see the right one bare from the side."

"Well, shit. You try sitting beside a chick wearing something you can almost see through and its cut real low like that in the front. I mean, you're going to look, right? So, she catches me looking and I get real uncomfortable and look away and I even start to get up but she takes my hand so I can't go and starts talking about how I haven't been behaving lately and all that shit."

"I'm waiting for her to get it over with and was about to tell her to fuck off when she says she'd like us to start over and try a different approach. I'm thinking, yah right, but she pulls my hand toward her and holds it in both of hers as if she really doesn't want me to go. That's fine, but the thing is, she held my hand right on top of her lap, I mean, right by her pussy!"

"Wow," I said.

"At first, I couldn't move, thinking she doesn't know what she's doing and if I look she'll know and get pissed off at me as if it's my fault, but in the end I couldn't help looking. Sure enough, she's holding my hand right on top of her panties. Her robe is parted all the way down now, I mean, it's wide open. There's my hand on her panties and she's looking at me earnestly, asking me if I agree we should start on another foot."

"So I nod my head and say 'yes' but I'm looking down at her tits because the robe has come apart and there's just this really low cut, loose nightgown covering them so they're almost hanging out except for her nipples and I can see them through the material anyway."

"Mom says, 'that's good, Billy, I'm glad you're willing to work with me' and she leans toward me and rests her head on my shoulder and, get this, pushes my hand down right between her legs!"

"I couldn't fucking believe it! My cock fills my pajamas and I'm thinking, with her head on my arm, that she can't help but see it sticking up but all I do is lean over to look around her head so I can see my hand jammed in between her legs and her tits, pretty much bare now, hanging out."

"She says, 'If we work together, Billy, I know you can stop doing bad things' and I say 'Yeah yeah, Mom, I know we can' and she says 'I knew you'd say that' and hugs my arm real hard and that jams my hand right into her pussy."

"You're kidding?" I said, awed.

"No, for real. She even like squeezed her legs on it and she started jiggling and shaking so I thought she was crying but it felt real good on my hand so I didn't say anything. Anyway, after a minute, Mom looked up at me and said we should seal our new pact with a kiss. So I lean down to kiss her on the cheek and she puts her mouth right on mine. I was stunned! She pulls away and says she used to kiss me all the time when I was little because I was so cute and then she kissed me on the mouth again. When that's done, she says we should start kissing all the time to celebrate our new pact and I say, 'well yah' and she says, 'but only if you keep being a good boy'. Then she asks me, 'Are you going to be a good boy, Billy?' and I say 'For sure' and that's when she kissed me and even pushed her tongue into my mouth a bit."

Billy paused for breath again.

"It was incredible. By the time we had finished, we were leaning back against the couch and she was kind of half-turned onto me. I forgot myself and looked right at her tits hanging in front of me and she just smiled. She didn't try to cover them up or anything. Then she looked down at my pants where my fucking cock was sticking up hard as a rock and she said, 'I guess not all of you thinks I'm an old bitch'. I protested, saying I didn't think that and she laughed and reminded me that we're starting over, all of that's behind us now, and I should tell the truth. So I nod, kind of eagerly, and that's when she did it."

"What, what did she do."

"She touched it."

"She what?"

"She scraped her hand all along my cock, from my balls right up to the tip, and then she closed her fingers around it. I almost came in my pants. Mom says, 'You be a good boy this week, Billy, so we can have another chat after Dad's gone to bed.'"

"Holy fuck," I cried.

"Yeah, you ain't kidding. I mean, wow! Man, I'm going to be Mr. Goody-Goody. I ain't doing anything to piss her off. No way, not a thing."

"I guess not," I said, feeling a bit jealous. 

Billy sensed the tone in my voice.

"Hey, your old lady, I mean, your mom, still isn't being nice to you?"

"Nope, not like that."

"Maybe you didn't prep the doll properly," Billy said, taking on the mantle of expert now that he had gotten more out of his mom than I had from mine.

"Maybe not," I agreed.

"You gots to touch it real nice, for a long time," he said.

"Yeah, I know. Look, I gotta go."

"I can't wait until next week," Billy said.

I snapped the phone shut.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

"You remember Susan, don't you?" Dad asked Mom, presenting the young woman that had just moved in down the street.

"Yes, how are you? I'm Sandra."

"Yes, I know. It's so nice of you, and you too," the attractive young woman turned to Dad, "to do this for Greg and I."

"Oh, is Greg coming too?" Mom asked, looking past Susan to the door that Dad had just closed.

"Oh no," Susan replied, "He's watching the baby. We really appreciate the help. With the new house and all, we just couldn't afford to get an updated set of headshots and everything. I really need to get back to work. We can handle the mortgage but there are so many extra costs around buying a house that we didn't expect." 

She didn't look like she'd just had a kid and I could see in Mom's eyes that she had categorized her as a 'CM', or Cesarean Mom, as Mom's friends called the new generation of mothers. 

"Well, we better get started." Dad ushered the pretty young woman down the hall to the studio. I returned to the couch and sat down, as did Mom. As we settled in, the deadbolt on the studio door clicked shut. I looked at Mom but she acted like she hadn't heard, though I knew she must have.

We watched TV for a while, or at least, I did. Mom leafed through a magazine with distinct disinterest. During the commercials she adjusted her position, tucking her feet back onto the couch, and leaned on the armrest to read her magazine. A few minutes later, we heard giggling in the studio. Mom didn't look but her eye's flickered so I turned up the volume. 

"Not so loud," Mom said. I turned it back down.

Looking at Mom's feet, I asked, "Do you still have a rash?"

Mom looked down at her feet. Like me, she probably couldn't see any evidence of a rash.

"Yes," she replied.

"Do you want me to put some lotion on it for you?"

Mom glanced toward the studio. "Sure," she said. "That would be nice. I'll get the lotion."

Mom went upstairs and I concentrated on taming my erection, with little success. I thought about slipping up to my room to work up the doll before we got started but it was too late, Mom was coming downstairs, lotion in hand. She was wearing the same outfit&#x2014;dark brown sweater and matching, light brown skirt. The bounce of her breasts ruined my efforts to control my genitals.

Mom plopped down on the couch beside me and leaned over onto her side. I had expected her to lie on her back and raise her knees up like the last time so I was a little uncomfortable squeezing the lotion on my hand and putting it on the back of her ankle when she was looking right at me. 

Mom stretched her left foot out so I could reach it better and I began working the lotion into her calf. I was relieved when she turned her attention to the TV. Every once in a while, we heard Susan giggle in the studio. When I reached Mom's knee, she drew her leg up and I started on the other leg. This one was weighted down by the other so Mom didn't try to straighten it out and I leaned toward her to reach better.

I liked her legs held together this way. When I reached her knee again, I noticed that it presented as enticing a soft hollow as it had the night before. I worked the lotion gently around that soft tissue but after a while, it was clear I was finished. Reluctantly, I pulled my hand away just as a louder, strangely nervous-sounding giggle drifted up the hallway. Mom grabbed my hand and pulled it onto her hip. She closed her eyes.

"Were you a good boy today, Jeff?"

"A good boy?" I laughed but Mom didn't.

"I mean, did you stay out of trouble?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Good." 

Mom released my hand and it slid down a couple of inches onto the edge of her buttock. I wouldn't have minded keeping it there but knew it was inappropriate so I let it accelerate under its own weight until it fell with a dull thump onto the couch. Mom's hand withdrew higher up her side. I guess was done helping Mom with her rash, which was a let-down from the night before, the only consolation being that Mom's skirt had drawn up onto her hip when she withdrew her hand. I could now see the entire expanse of the underside of her thighs.

"You're not going to get in any more trouble, are you Jeff?"

I was surprised when Mom spoke because she looked like she was sleeping. Of course, I knew she couldn't be but it looked that way.

"No Mom. I'm done with that." Shit, what was I saying? I was leaving her no incentive to cure me of my ills like Billy's mom was obviously so intent to do for him. Not that I had any illusions that Mom would do anything like Billy's mom was doing. She had said as much to her on the phone. But still, to just give any opportunity away was silly. "At least, I'm going to try. I still get urges," I said.

"That's good," Mom said. She reached for my hand. I held hers in my oily paw but after a minute she pulled away. "Your hand's all slippery," she said, wiping it against her skirt. 

I was amazed that Mom would wipe her hand on her clothes. How many times had she told me to use a napkin or go wash my hands and here she was wiping it on her skirt? The action had pulled the skirt way up onto Mom's hip, substantially baring her behind. I could now see her panties emerging from between her legs and widening out to cover her bottom but not much of it since they were the new style of panties. Effectively, I was looking at Mom's almost bare ass!

"Jeff?" Mom mumbled as if she had suddenly become very tired and was fighting a failing battle with sleep.

"Yeah?"

"That rash is still bothering me."

"I'll fix it for you," I answered. Mom nodded and made herself more comfortable, settling in as if to sleep, tucking her right hand under her face and pulling the cushion partly over her head to shield her eyes from the light.

I put some lotion on my hand, placed it on the back of Mom's calf, and started rubbing it there though I knew that part was already done because I wasn't quite ready to make the leap to rubbing the underside of her sexy thighs. It took me a couple of minutes to make the first tentative venture there but when she didn't flinch I quickly adapted to the new territory. Soon, I was stroking confidently from her knees to within an inch or so of her panties. It was a long time, however, before I had the courage to move onto the inside of her leg. I was in ecstasy when even that didn't produce a protest.

I pushed Mom's left thigh off the right to make it easier to move along the inside of her legs. This tilted her bum toward me. After receiving no complaint about further exposing her back end, I put way too much lotion on my fingers again.

"Oh shit, too much lotion again."

Tentatively, I rubbed some of the excess lotion onto the back of Mom's panties, high up, near the waistband. When Mom didn't object, I rubbed my finger lower, scraping my finger clean. A few minutes later, I put too much lotion on again.

"Oh shit, too much. Damn."

This time, I applied the excess lotion lower on Mom's panties, ready to jerk my hand back at the first sign of trouble, but Mom didn't react so I spread it right down under her bum to where her pussy began to swell into being. There was still no sign of movement, not even a twitch. I twisted my finger as if trying to rub it clean, right in the middle of her dampish, puffy pussy. I was scared as hell but kept rubbing and twisting my finger. 

I was afraid to speak but felt the need to justify myself, so I whispered, "I'm sure trying hard to turn over a new leaf, Mom."

<i>Idiot!</i> I thought, but Mom didn't respond. I had leaned forward so I could see her face under the pillow and her eyes hadn't even fluttered. I joined several fingers together and pressed them into Mom's puffy lips, thinking a thicker presence would make her horny. 

There was a thumping sound from the studio followed by intense whispering. Someone fiddled with the deadbolt on the studio door. Panicked, I quickly withdrew my hand and yanked Mom's skirt down, then bolted upstairs. Running toward my room, I suddenly stopped and retreated down the hallway to listen near the top of the stairs.

"Finished already?" Mom said.

"Yes," Dad replied. "Susan is quite photogenic. The camera likes her."

"Isn't that nice," Mom said. I'm sure Dad recognized the sarcasm in her voice but it seemed lost on Susan.

"Thank you so much for doing this, and I hope it wasn't an intrusion, Sandra."

"Not at all," Mom replied in the same tone. "You can borrow my husband anytime."

The door opened and closed. Dad said, "That was rude."

"Really?" Mom replied. "You couldn't wait until I was out to get your jollies photographing that bit of fluff?"

"She's a nice girl. I was just trying to help out."

"Sure."

"Whatever," Dad said. "Where's Jeff?"

"I don't know. He went upstairs just after you took your new project into the studio."

"Oh. I'm going to bed. You coming?"

"No. think I'll watch a movie."

"I thought you wanted to talk about Jeff?"

"I'll handle it myself."

"Don't get mad about Susan. I was just helping out because they're neighbors. You know that."

Mom sighed. "I know. I just think your approach is wrong. Punishment can have adverse effects down the line."

"You have a better idea? You think he'll change just by talking to him?"

"I'd appreciate it if you'd let me handle it my way."

"Well, the first thing is to get him away from that Billy kid."

"Let me handle it."

"Fine." 

Dad's heavy steps climbed the stairs and I retreated to my room.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

So Dad was ready to give me what for and Mom was stepping in to protect me. I wondered if she was having second thoughts about the approach taken by Billy's and Gary's moms. Could I be that lucky?

I pulled the doll out of the drawer and sat on my bed. Looking at it reminded me of Mom so I laid it on its side on the table and fished my cock out of my shorts. Fuck, she had looked awesome lying on her side, one leg atop the other with its knee higher and pressed onto the cushion, thereby emphasizing the triangle of her panties which seemed to whisper, 'Come hither'. 

I pulled harder on my dick. What if the doll really worked? Billy's mom was obviously doing what she was doing on purpose, and so had Gary's mom, but what about Mom? In the past few days she had engaged in overtly sexual acts. She didn't know I was watching, but then again, I had never seen her do anything like it before. Not, in fact, until I got the doll and started touching it. Was the doll's mere presence affecting her?

I released my cock and took the doll in hand. After removing its clothing, I started rubbing it as softly as I could and even brought its open legs up and slid my tongue between them. I found the delicate paint brush and dragged it lightly all over the doll's body, concentrating on the breasts and especially between its legs. I twirled and twirled the brush against the doll's pussy. Satisfied, I went back downstairs.

Mom was sitting on the couch watching TV. It was a good thing the lights were out because I was sporting a huge erection which my shorts did little to camouflage. Pausing in the kitchen doorway, I asked Mom if she wanted anything. She shook her head, not even looking at me.

"Are you sure?" I asked again. "I'm getting a coke."

Mom glanced at me and I immediately realized I had made a mistake because the light in the kitchen outlined my shape in the doorway perfectly. Mom's eyes lowered briefly, then flicked away.

"No thanks."

I looked down at the tent in my shorts. Shit!

I fetched a coke, then poured it into a glass and put ice in it, all to kill time as I wished my erection into submission with partial success. Before entering the living room, I turned the kitchen light off and walked toward the couch holding the glass down low to cover myself. I sat next to Mom.

"What are you watching?"

"Something with Meg Ryan in it," she answered. "In the Cut, I think."

My cock lurched. I had watched the movie several times, having a bit of a thing for Meg. 

"It's not her usual fluffy thing," Mom added, shifting her hips toward me on the couch, inadvertently pushing her rump against me.

I started to reply but Mom shushed me.

"Shhhhh."

I sat back and watched the movie, torn between hot images of Meg and the soft, sexy plumpness of Mom's bottom heating up my thigh. I sipped at my coke, waiting for a commercial so I could drop a few pearls to imply that I needed special encouragement from Mom to maintain my good behavior. However, no commercial came. Mom was watching one of the movie channels. Shit! By the time the movie ended all my preparations of the doll would be worn off. 

I let a few minutes go by. Desperate, and not thinking, I rested my elbow on Mom's hip. Realizing that I had made contact and Mom hadn't taken any notice, I started drumming my fingers on her thigh. Quickly, Mom's hand covered mine and stilled my obnoxious fingers. A few seconds later, it withdrew. I guess it was okay for my hand to be there, but finger drumming wasn't welcome. 

I moved my fingers again but this time I moved them sideways, slowly, rubbing instead of thumping. Mom's hand stayed away. Encouraged, I continued the gentle caress and even forgot I was doing it, becoming absorbed in a particularly good Meg scene, until I realized my finger was touching Mom's bare skin. I glanced down to see that my ministrations had worked Mom's skirt higher up her leg. My mind re-focused.

Gradually, over the next fifteen minutes, I flexed my wrist and moved my elbow enough to tug Mom's skirt up so that my entire hand was lying on her bare thigh. It was mind blowing how erotic it felt to sneakily pull Mom's skirt up just a few inches, exposing no more leg than I had seen a hundred times before. Nevertheless, it made me rock hard and I became worried that Mom might look my way and see my swollen shorts so I finished my coke to free up a hand to at least partly cover my errant steed.
<hr pg="8" />"Can you put this on the table for me," I asked, holding the empty glass in front of Mom. Her only answer was to look around the glass at the TV. Shrugging, I leaned across Mom and set the glass down myself. As I leaned over, my hips turned toward Mom and the tent in my shorts pressed against the back of her bottom. It was so warm and soft and inviting, it paralyzed me.

"Jeff, move back. Give me some room," Mom snapped.

"What? Oh, sorry."

I pulled back but remained facing toward Mom's backside.

"Move back," she urged.

I shifted back further, my gaze never leaving the expanse of bottom and thighs revealed by my retreat. My observation was cut short by Mom's sudden shift toward me as she jerked her elbow off the armrest and put her head down on it. Her bottom was once more pressed against me and, since I was still facing her, so was the tent in my shorts. She must have felt its presence but she acted like nothing was wrong. I looked down to confirm what I could feel and was surprised to see Mom's skirt riding high up on her hip. I guess it have been dragged way up when she slid down on the couch. No wonder it was so warm down there.

I had nowhere to put my hands and they were hovering over her. I realized I should pull back and face forward but Mom was watching the TV so I felt no immediate need to end the wonderful sensations emanating from the area of my private parts. I leaned sideways to put my elbow on the back of the couch above Mom, causing my groin to press even more firmly against her bottom. Sucking in my breath, I waited for a rebuke but it never came. I watched the TV, holding my other hand aloft, then slowly lowered it until it rested on Mom's thigh, just above the knee. Soon, I renewed the sideways rubbing of my forefinger and thumb.

My body ached. To keep in contact with Mom's bottom, I was uncomfortably contorted. The hand whose thumb and forefnger were caressing Mom's thigh was moving up and down her leg without distracting Mom's attention on the TV. My discomfort was overridden by the desire keep the ground I had gained. Gently, I urged Mom's knee upward. If I could shift her leg, I could move mine more comfortably behind it. After applying pressure for some time, Mom's knees shifted up and the top one fell in front of the other. My legs followed. 

When Mom's upper leg had fallen in front of the other, a gap opened between her thighs into which my hand and automatically continued its stroking caress.

The movie ended. 

Mom kept watching the TV for several minutes, neither of us moving except for my roving hand. Her hand rose up and clutched the pillow over her head. Suddenly, my hand became trapped as Mom's upper leg lifted and slid back on top of the other one. I was stuck in a very warm place high up between her legs. 

I tried to move my hand but it was firmly ensconced between her legs, so high up that I could feel the puffiness of her panties pressing down on the back of my thumb. I moved my thumb upward and her thighs went rigid. I froze. The muscles in the arm clutching the pillow were tense. Clearly, Mom was at the cusp of a decision. I waited, knowing the next few seconds would define our future relationship, love or hate.

I waited.

And waited.

Except for the tension in her arm and legs, Mom could have been sleeping. The influence of the doll didn't matter now. She didn't know about it so how could it contribute to her decision? Whatever affect it had was already in play. Mom must be torn about whether to follow the path that Gary's and Billy's moms had taken. I was sure it wasn't about whether or not it would work. She had told Billy's mom that I wouldn't show the same interest in her that Billy was demonstrating to his mom, but now she knew better so the question couldn't be whether or not it would work. 

Did she want to, or could she, go through with it? That was the question.

I waited. Mom's thighs still immobilized my hand. I felt distant, as if I was looking down at Mom and I on the couch, only mildly interested, watching to see what would unfold, and casually awaiting the end of the struggle.

I waited.

Suddenly, it dawned on me that maybe Mom couldn't decide on her own. Of course, she wanted to turn me away from sinking into worse behavior, to guide me towards a bright future, but at such a cost, wasn't there another way? I needed to convince her that the price was worth it, or better, that there was no other way.

I flexed my thumb against Mom's panties and her legs immediately became even more rigid. 

"You know, Mom, I've been thinking a lot lately. I believe people are mostly good but there's a little bad in everyone. Even Dad has bad thoughts."

I felt bad about reminding Mom about the Dad, the studio, and Susan but I needed every ounce of pressure to teeter Mom over the edge.

"I try not to be bad but I'm not perfect. I know I'll do something. I can't help it."

I leaned down and pressed my forehead against Mom's side next to her breast and shook my head slowly, rubbing my nose in her flesh.

"I'm really trying but it's hard," I whispered. "If only there was something to help me, something to think about that would restrain me when I'm out there alone, by myself."

Jesus. Could I be more obvious? Mom's hand slid part way down the pillow covering her head. Yes, I could be more obvious. I blatantly laid it out.

"If only," I paused for effect, "I could be a little bit bad at home it might make me better out there, kind of like a balance sort of thing."

I waited for my words to take hold. Mom had turned her face up to hear me better, only an inch or maybe even less, but it showed she was listening.

I waited, but Mom didn't ask me for more detail on what I meant as I had expected her to do. She seemed to be waiting for me to say something more but I was waiting for her to ask. Instead, Mom relaxed, allowing her face to settle down into the couch the inch it had turned up. She pulled the pillow more firmly over her face and was still, but the tension in her legs eased. 

I flexed my thumb, pressing firmly into Mom's panties but the muscles in her legs didn't tense up like before. The thrill that coursed through me almost escaped my lips in a squeal of delight. Holy fuck! 

I rubbed my thumb across the front of Mom's panties and still she didn't clench her legs tight to stop me. I hunched closer to her and pressed my swelling cock against her bum. I struggled to control my breathing but the joy of holding and touching Mom so intimately was too great. I couldn't hide my excitement. I dropped my right hand behind her back and slipped it underneath her body, finding and cupping her breast.

"I love you, Mom. I know you'll help me," I rasped.

I pulled my hand out from behind Mom's legs and squeezed in back in from the front. My hand cupped her mound and its longest finger found and pressed into the now very damp groove dividing her swelling lips. My cock throbbed against Mom's panties from behind. I was in heaven.

I began rubbing my hand up and down on Mom's pussy with my finger sliding between her pubes. Without meaning to, my finger pushed her panties aside and slipped underneath. Immediately it was surrounded by Mom's wet lips and my nose, still nuzzling the side of Mom's breast, was filled with her pungent odor. I pushed my finger deeper, found the smaller, inner hole and slipped inside. 

I was finger-fucking Mom! I concentrated on moving my fingers inside her to deliver the most exquisite sensations I could, based upon my recently learned knowledge. Judging by Mom's poorly restrained breathing, I wasn't doing a bad job. Unfortunately, I was also humping against her behind and lost my concentration. I relieved myself in my shorts.

Shortly after that, Mom snorted as if she was waking, and sat up. I sat up with her and withdrew my hand as she rose. She shook her head as if to clear it, then got up and went upstairs without saying a word, not even goodnight. I turned off the TV and went to bed too.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

I didn't visit Billy's Mom the next day. For one thing, something told me that Mrs. Hammond wouldn't be all that interested in showing me how grateful she was now that she had decided to change her son's behavior directly without working through me. She obviously didn't need my help anymore. The other thing was that I didn't much care anymore. The woman I kept thinking about was Mom.

To be sure, Mrs. Hammond was a sexy woman and, push come to shove, I would enjoy fucking her, and maybe one day I would, if I could. But now, the woman I really wanted was the one I loved, and the I now knew loved me so much she would do anything for me, maybe. I wanted to find out. Let me rephrase that, I needed to find out.

I started to approach Mom several times the next day but something in her demeanor warned me away. I decided not to risk pushing it and possibly losing what I had gained. I retreated to my room after she brushed me off and paid loving attention to the doll. Nevertheless, I received the same subliminal message when I approached Mom several more times and I backed off each time, but revisited the doll each time too. 

Just before dinner, after Dad had come home, Mom began leafing through the photos that Dad had taken of Susan. She had evidently brought them from studio earlier and put them under a magazine on the coffee table. After she finished looking at each one, she tossed it back onto the coffee table. Dad looked uncomfortable. Not all the pictures were headshots. In fact, most were full body pics, from many angles, including lots in reclining poses where Susan's skirt had slid far up her legs. Mom was critical.

"You know, I don't think you've done Susan justice."

"What do you mean?" Dad asked nervously.

"She has a wonderful figure and you can't really see it in thesd pictures. I think you should get her back and take some more."

"Really? I think they show that she's a very pretty young woman. Someone should give her a shot on that basis," Dad defended his professional skill.

"Maybe," Mom replied, "but if there were a few more risqué shots, it would help."

"You think so?" Dad asked.

"Yes, a few bikini shots would clinch an interview, I should think," Mom mused.

"Well, maybe I don't think I could suggest that to her. I don't her and her husband that well."

"Neither do I but she seemed to take it well."

"She...you didn't..."

"Yes, I did. She's coming over after dinner. She seemed quite thrilled, in fact. I told her you wouldn't mind taking a few more photos, well, lot's more."

"No, no, of course not," Dad agreed. "They are neighbors, after all."

"Exactly," Mom said. "She'll be over about eight thirty, after she puts Ricky to bed. I told her to bring a bikini or two and maybe some lingerie."

Dad ate dinner quickly that night and hurried off to studio to get ready. Mom seemed pleased with herself and I was confused. I couldn't figure Mom out. Why had she invited Susan to spend more time alone with Dad in the studio, in a bikini and lingerie yet?

I tried to help Mom with the dishes, just to be near her but she shooed me out.

"Maybe you can keep me company while your father and Susan are in the studio," she suggested.

I agreed to do that but was more interested in keeping her company after Susan had left and Dad had gone to bed.

"Maybe we could watch a couple of movies," I suggested in return.

"Maybe," Mom replied.

I went up to my room and played with the doll. I heard Susan come in and shortly after that, Mom called me. I went downstairs to find Mom sitting on the couch, watching TV. The lights had been dimmed.

"I thought I heard Susan come in," I said, looking down the hall at the closed studio door. 

"She did," Mom replied. "They'll probably be busy for a while, I should think."

I sat down on the couch and as soon as I did, Mom slid down onto her side and rested her head on the armrest. 

"So, did she bring her bikinis?"

"Shhhhhh," Mom hissed.

I shut up. Mom reached for my hand and pulled it onto her hip. I waited a few minutes before allowing it to stray onto her thigh outside her skirt. I shifted closer to her and started stroking her leg, stretching down to her bare knee. Mom pulled the pillow over her face. 

A commercial started but Mom remained focused on the screen. On the next upstroke, my hand slipped underneath her skirt and Mom didn't even flinch. The commercials ended just when I reached the half way point between the hem of Mom's skirt and her panties. I worked my way higher and higher, my fingers curling around the front of Mom's legs into the crease between them. By the time the next set of commercials came on, my fingers were bumping against the front of Mom's panties.

"Jeff?" Mom whispered.

"Yeah," I answered, worried by her awareness.

"Were you bad today?"

I was about to answer when Mom spoke again.

"I mean, out there."

"No."

My fingers nestled against Mom's panties, and stayed.

"Do you think your father's being bad in there?" Mom asked.

"No," I responded truthfully. "He might be thinking about it but I doubt he's doing anything."

"Even when Susan's in a bikini?"

"Yeah, even then."

"Hmmmm. I guess you're right. You always have been more like me."

"You mean, because I'm bad?"

"Yes."

That was an interesting response. I thought about it for a moment, and while I did, my finger started tickling the front of Mom's panties.

"Jeff?"

"Yeah?"

"I bought a new bikini today."

"You did?"

"Yes. If you're good out there tomorrow, I'll show it to you before your father gets home. Maybe you can take some pictures?"

"Okay, Mom."

"I think I still look okay in a bikini."

"Mom."

"Yes?"

"Shhhhh. Watch the movie."

Mom pulled the pillow tighter over her head and my finger became more active. I leaned down to press my nose into the side of her breast, which felt unencumbered. I slipped my hand behind her and underneath, finding and grasping her breast. Mom wasn't wearing a bra. I filled my hand with tit and slipped my fingers inside Mom's panties which was easy because they were the kind that dip low in front, something I guessed was new in Mom's wardrobe. I was pleased, very pleased.

I pressed close to Mom, pushing my hard cock against her bottom. I loved doing this. I humped at her slowly for a while then pulled back. I lifted Mom's skirt up to expose her panties, found the waistband and pulled them down, exposing her ass and the back of her pussy. The sight of those two, fat puffy lips made me leak into the condom I had put on so I didn't mess my pants like I had the previous night. I spread them with my fingers to reveal the sweet pinkness inside. Mother fucker, that was hot. 

Tightening two fingers, I pushed them inside. Mom flinched but I pressed on, dividing her lips and pushing into her inner hole, invading her cunt.

"Unnnghhh."

Squish, squish, squish. Mom was already wet and getting wetter.

"Dad's in there alone with that hot little bitch in her bikini," I whispered, shoving my fingers in deep.

"Unnnghhh."

"And he hasn't got the moxie to do her."

Shove, shove.

"If it was me, I'd do her, even if my wife was out here."

"That's because...unhhhh...you're bad," Mom rasped.

"That's right, just like his wife," I rasped back.

"Do you want to do her?" Mom asked.

"What?"

"Susan. I'll tell her she'll look better in pictures with a younger man," Mom said. 

"You mean me?"

"Yes," Mom hissed.

"You're bad, Mom. Why would you want to see me do Susan? A little payback for your husband's wandering eye?"

"I just want you to be rewarded, Jeff."

"Oh."

I pulled my hands away from Mom and she sighed in disappointment. I tugged her legs down straight on the couch and rolled her onto her tummy, then dragged her skirt up onto her back. Pushing my hand between her legs from behind, I found her pussy and slowly inserted three fingers into her cunt, then lifted her face from the pillow.

"I don't want that milktoast goody-goody, I want you," I hissed, twisting my fingers deeply inside her cunt. 

"Unnnghhhh. But she's beautiful, Jeff."

"So are you."

"Unnghhh. You can go all the way with her."

"I can do that with you."

"No, you can't."

"You won't let me?"

"Not all the way."

"How far, then?"

"I...unghhhh...don't know. Just this."

"I want more."

"No. I've already gone too far. Ohhhh, Jeez, that feels good."

"He doesn't treat you like this, does he?"

"Unnnghhhh. No."

"I know how to make you feel good."

"Yes...unghhh...you do, but we can't go all the way, Jeff. I'll get Susan for you. She acts innocent but there's a wildness in her. I can sense it."

The thought of Mom procurring a young wife for me was pretty wild.

"Okay, Mom."

I practised my recently-learned finger art for the next few minutes and got Mom really worked up. I slipped onto my knees and crab-walked sideways to Mom's head, being careful to keep my fingers working in her cunt. Using my left hand, I undid my shorts and let my condom covered cock spring free. I wished now that I hadn't put the damn thing on. I pulled Mom's head toward me. She opened her eyes and they went wide. Holding the back of her neck, I urged her forward.

"She's probably in her bikini now," I croaked, "maybe even her panties, and he's gawking at her. It would be really nasty for you to take me into your mouth while he's in there thinking he's getting away with something."

Mom shook her head but her eyes were wide and she wasn't trying to pull away so I urged her head forward until my plastic-covered cock nudged her lips.

"I need you," I pleaded.

Mom's lips parted and my tip slipped inside. I put all my fingers at the entrance to Mom's well-worked hole and pushed. Mom opened her mouth wide and my cock slipped in. I pushed harder, all my fingers sinking to the third knuckles. Mom gulped and took me in to her tonsils. I worked my hand, twisting it, to stretch Mom's cunt. She mumbled something on my cock but I figured it would have been unintelligible even without her mouth full. 

I began stroking in her mouth, trying to time my in and outs with left and right twists of my hand, and was amazed when Mom thrust her ass up to get more of it inside. I was moving faster now, without regard to Mom's face. Below, Mom stretched wide enough that the hinge of my thumb crested and my hand slipped fully inside. Mom bucked her hips and her whole body trembled and quivered, then she stopped humping and simply vibrated, coming on my enveloped wrist. So did I, just in the condom, but it was in her hot, wet mouth. 

Dad and Susan emerged about ten minutes later. Mom and I were quietly watching a movie. We got up to greet them. Susan gushed about how thankful she was for Mom's suggestion about doing more pictures. Mom walked her to the door and Dad turned back to the studio, I guess to review the pictures. Mom spoke quietly for a moment to Susan while I stood by myself, the condom in my pants full of cum, and my pocket bulging with Mom's soaking wet panties. Susan glanced at me, then smiled and nodded at Mom. 

"Has Dad gone back to his studio?" Mom asked after she closed the door.

I nodded.

"Well, I think I'll go up to bed now." She turned at the stairs and said, "You'd better be a very good boy, Jeff."

"I will, Mom."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

The first thing next morning I started working up the doll. There was no way Mom had capitulated so fast simply because she wanted to change my behavior. The doll definitely had something to do with it and no matter what Gary's mom or Billy's mom thought, they were affected too. They were simply too close, too involved, to think straight. 

I fingered and rubbed and licked the doll before going downstairs for breakfast. Mom had finished hers and was watching a morning show on TV while she drank her coffee. Dad was reading the paper and eating his. He glanced at his watch as I entered the kitchen and did so several more times. He liked to wait until the last possible minute before facing the morning rush hour.
<hr pg="9" />I made some cereal and sat down with Dad to eat. We didn't talk. About halfway through eating my cereal, Dad abruptly got up to leave.

"Have a good day, son."

"You too, Dad."

"See you dear. I'm off," he called to Mom as he left the house.

I finished my cereal and had another glass of juice before rinsing the dishes in the sink and putting them in the dishwasher. I walked to the kitchen doorway and looked out at Mom. She was sitting with her feet up on the edge of the coffee table, kind of slouching down so her feet could reach. She was wearing a white, silk blouse and a loose, pleated navy blue skirt. As I approached her, I could see the outline of a dark bra under her blouse. I kneeled down beside her feet by the coffee table.

Mom glanced at me, then continued watching the TV.

"You have to be good all day to get your cookie," she said.

"I know that, Mom. I was just concerned about your rash."

"Oh yeah, I'm sure," she laughed.

"No, really," I insisted, grabbing the foot nearest me and twisting it outward so I could see the back of her calf. I ran my fingers lightly up the back of her leg to the knee. The excitement I sensed in reaction to my touch transferred to me.

"I don't have a rash anymore," Mom complained, trying to tug her foot free.

"I'm not so sure," I said. "It doesn't look like it, but I can feel a couple of tiny bumps."

"Jeff, I don't have a rash," Mom insisted.

"I think you do, Mom."

I pushed Mom's foot toward her, forcing her knee to bend and lift upward. As I lifted her foot, Mom's shoe fell off and clattered onto the table. I moved closer, sidling into a position more in front of Mom, and moved her foot from my right hand to my left. Holding her knee in its bent back position, I examined Mom's calf more closely, then turned my eye to the underside of her thigh.

"There's a bit of a rash, but not much of one."

"Jeff, quit playing around," Mom tried harder to twist her leg free.

I touched the back of Mom's thigh and was surprised how her flesh flinched. 

"I don't think it needs any lotion," I said, touching her again and leaving the tip of my finger on her skin, then letting it slowly drag down toward her panties which I noted matched the navy blue skirt.

"Of course it doesn't need any lotion," Mom snapped. "There's nothing there."

Holding her foot by the ankle, I lifted Mom' right leg.

"Jeff, I can't see," Mom complained.

"I'll just kiss it better," I said, and ducked my head until my lips pressed against Mom's soft flesh on the inside where her thigh thickened. My lips nibbled. "It's amazing what a little love can do."

"Jeff, stop it," Mom giggled. "That tickles."

I nibbled faster, moving my mouth around in a circle. Mom giggled again.

"Stop tickling me."

She lifted her left leg and tried to bump my head away with her knee so I grabbed the underside and lifted it, then planted several nipping nibbles upon it too.

"Don't. I hate being tickled," Mom complained.

Ignoring her, I rained nibbled and nips all over the inside of her thighs. Her hands grabbed my head and tried to push it away but I was firm and fervent in pursuing my task. Gradually, my nibbles became longer nips and then more like love bites as Mom's hands pushed with less force. Sucking more than biting, my lips moved closer and closer to Mom's panties and her hands began steering and pulling than pushing away. I came very close, skirting the edge of Mom's panties.

"Jeff."

I plunged, opening my mouth wide and encapsulating as much panty-covered mound as I could.

"Oh God, oh God," Mom cried, her hands pushing again.

I held in tight, my neck straining with the effort to keep my mouth on Mom's pussy. I moved my lips like I was sucking on a large ice cream cone.

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!"

My nose pressed into Mom's puffiness and moved with my head as I swirled it about, never letting go of my damp mouthful. I pressed my tongue into action, licking her groove and pushing in firmly, plying Mom's nether gully as deeply as her panties would allow. 

"Ohhhhhhhhhh," Mom sighed, her hands pulling my head firmly onto her panties.

I nodded my head, shook it sideways, again and again, always munching, always licking. Mom's sighs and moans grew longer and more frequent. Her remaining shoe dropped to the rug as her feet bounced in the air. I slid my hands down Mom's thighs but her legs remained high and pulled back, keeping her pantied-pussy fully accessible to my face. Grasping the sides of Mom's panties, I dragged them up her legs as unobtrusively as I could, expecting a violent reaction as soon as she noticed what I was doing. The protest, when it came, was unexpectedly mild. 

"Jeff don't," Mom mumbled as her panties cleared her buttocks. "We can't," she cried as they slid up the back of her thighs high enough to bare the bottom of her pussy. "You mustn't," she whimpered as my mouth found her bare pussy for the first time. "Oh god," she moaned as my tongue slid inside her lips and licked the length of her groove.

Mom was silent except for the sound of her ragged breathing as I pushed her panties up to her knees, constantly lapping her cunt, and pulled them over her knees, stretching my hands up high, bending her knees and pulling her legs down to yank the prize off her feet. 

"Just this, just this," I assured her though I'm sure my words were unintelligible through her sloppy, wet, pink flesh. 

I dropped my hands, the left curling around the underside of her right thigh to find the sensitive nub atop her sloppy lips. The right skidded underneath her blouse, found her bra and flipped it up, baring her left tit. I filled my hand, squeezing her nipple, and plunged my tongue deep.

"Awww God, fuck!" Mom cried so loud I thought the neighbors might hear.

I dug my tongue in deep again, wiggling it all around, then pulled it out to lap her lips again, pressing and rubbing her bud at the same time.

"Fuck!" Mom yelled. 

I pinched Mom's nipple hard, tugged down, then released it.

"Fuck!"

Grabbing it again, I pulled it down harder, held on longer, then released it with a snap.

"Oh, my God."

I brought my right hand around Mom's bottom and found her pussy, then inserted two fingers into her soaking cunt. Immediately, I increased the frequency of my lapping tongue, and jammed my fingers in and out just as fast, leaning into her to lift her ass for better access. I pistoned my fingers in Mom's cunt, licked her lips, and rubbed her bud. 

"Oh, oh, oh, ohhhh, ohhhhhhh, ohhhhhahhhhhh, fuuuuck, fuuuuck!"

Mom's pussy quivered and her legs shook violently, then began scissoring around my face, her hands holding me so hard I could barely breath, snorting through my nose to stay alive. When Mom's legs finally relaxed and her feet collapsed to the floor beside me, I sat back on my haunches. 

Mom was dazed. Though she was looking at me, I don't think she really saw me. I'm sure she didn't notice me pushing my shorts down to my knees, over, and down my legs. When I stood up, she reacted slowly to my freely bouncing cock. 

"Jeff, no. We can't," Mom protested, snapping her legs shut and covering her satisfied pussy with both hands.

She had no idea was I was about to do and her actions made it easier to accomplish my task. I stepped out of my shorts and up onto the couch, my feet beside her hips. Mom looked up at me in surprise, again facilitating my goal. She opened her mouth to speak, and I filled it with my cock.

"Jeblplbgle"

Mom tried to pull away but I followed and grabbed her head with both hands to prevent further retreat. I sank in another inch before pulling out, hovered over her open mouth, then sank in again as soon as I heard words gurgling up.

"Jefblplbgle"

"Ahhh, Mom. That's so fucking hot. My turn, my turn."

I pulled out, waited, and sank in again, joyful that no words bubbled up. 

"Yeah, oh yeah," I cried, dipping my cock quickly in and out several times. "Suck it for me."

I plunged my cock in again, filling Mom's mouth, the loud sucking sound when I pulled away from her lips thrilling me. She had heard what I said. It warranted a repeat.

"My turn," I sighed, sinking in again. "Suck it hard."

I moved my cock up and down, stretching and bending at the knees until I tired. Sinking down, I crouched before Mom, tipped her head forward, and flexed my hips to fuck her face. She was a trooper. Several times, I pushed in too far but Mom never tried to turn her head away, she simply gasped for breath and waited, mouth yawning wide, for me to return. 

I didn't realize until I was about to come that I hadn't thought to wear a condom even though I had planned this while I was still in bed. In my excitement and haste, I had simply forgot. There was no fixing that now, my bucking hips were in automatic mode. I was going to come. My balls knew it, my cock knew it, and Mom knew it. The fingers of one hand curled around my balls while the other hooked around my thigh, trying to keep my cock from withdrawing completely from my mouth. I realized, with pride, that Mom was planning on taking everything I had in her mouth. I let it go.

Sploosh, sploosh, sploosh.

"Ahhhhhhhh, fuuuuck!" I cried, dwarfing her earlier yell.

Sploosh, sploosh. My cock pulled out, squirt, squirt, on Mom's lips, then back in, sucking sounds, beautiful sucking sounds, back out, dribbling, dribbling on Mom's chin, trying to get back in but skidding across her face, pulling back, getting it right this time, into her mouth, oh God, sucking hard. I fell over Mom, my arms bracing myself on the back of the couch and my head banging against the wall, thankfully remembering not to push too hard into her mouth. Mom sucking and licking, lovingly, cleaning me, teasing me, kissing it, sucking it, kissing it. Oh God, I twisted sideways and fell onto the couch.

"That was very bad, Jeffrey," Mom chastized me. "You had better be good for a long time, a very long time."

"I will Mom, I will."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

"Jeff?" 

"Who the fuck else would it be? You called me."

"I know. Man you wouldn't believe me what happened last night."

"Yeah. What happened?"

"What's the matter with you? Your old lady still not being nice to you."

"Nope."

"Too bad, I feel for ya."

"Yeah, well, so what happened?'

"You sure you want to hear?"

"No. Yeah, go ahead."

Billy started.

"So Mom goes to bed with Dad last night but then comes downstairs to get a nightcap. But instead of taking it back upstairs she comes into the living room. She stops in front of me and asks me if I'd done anything she would like to hear about that day. I says, 'no' and she then asks me to hold her drink, which I do. So I'm holding it and she takes off her robe. Well, she's wearing this long nightgown underneath so it doesn't show much more of her skin but it's really silky-like so it's almost like she's got nothing on anyway. Man, I felt like I had a golf ball in my mouth."

"She's got a pretty hot body," I remarked, instantly reprimanding myself but Billy didn't read past my words.

"Yeah," Billy said. "So I hand her drink back to her but she doesn't go. Instead she sits down on my lap, right on my boner. It's really hard and sticking up into her ass but she pays it no mind and asks me to tell her what I did today. So I starts telling her and she's stroking my face with her finger, kinda like scratching it, you know, and making me really horny because all the time her butt is folding around my cock. So I run out of things to say and she says, 'Is that all?'"

"I tried do think of other things to say so we won't leave but my mind goes blank and Mom gets up but, to my surprise, she sits down right beside me. 'So you were a good boy today, were you?' All I could do was nod my head because she was looking down at my erection. I mean it was filling my pants and sticking way up. While I'm nodding, Mom puts her fingers on it, real light, no heavier than a feather, but she could have hit my cock with a hammer and I wouldn't have felt it more. It lurches up and she laughs. I mean, she laughs. 'What have you got in there, Billy? Is that for me?' she says."

"Before I can answer&#x2014;God knows what I would have said&#x2014;she pulls my zipper down and tries to get my cock out but it's too big, so she unbuttons my pants and pulls them open. My cock pushes my underwear way up and Mom grabbed the waistband and yanked it down. So now my cock is flipping around, hard as all get out, and Mom grabs it. 'Stay still, you silly thing,' she says, then starts jacking my cock. 'You're going to be good every day aren't you, Billy?' she asks and I says, I sure will, so she starts jacking me off faster."

"No shit," I said.

"It gets better. She leans over me and puts her face right over the top of my cock. 'You won't make a mess on me will you, Billy?' I say, no, I sure won't, Mom, and she says, 'I'd like you to get your hair cut.'"

"Really? Are you going to cut your hair?"

"You betcha. Have to."

"Why?"

"Cause I said I would. She put her face down real close and breathed on the tip of my cock. 'You will cut your hair, won't you, Billy?' What the hell. I said, Hell yes, Mom and she said I shouldn't swear so I promised to get my hair cut the next day and to never swear again."

"Fuckin hell, you wimp."

"Fuck you," Billy retorted. 

"Hey, watch it or I'll tell your mommy," I taunted.

"You do and you die," Billy wasn't amused.

"Ya ya. So what happened then?"

"As soon as I said that, Mom's head dropped, right onto my cock. It went up and down about a dozen times and that was it."

"You came?"

"No, she quit."

"You're kidding. She didn't let you finish?"

"Yeah, it was the shits but what she said next was awesome."

"What? What did she say?" 

"She said, 'If you get your hair cut I'll let you do something real special, Billy.'"

"Fuck," I said. "You mean, she'll suck you?"

"Not only that. I mean, the way she put her face real close and blew on my cock and what she said earlier, I think she means she'll let me blow my load in her face."

"No way."

"Yeah, I'm sure of it 'cause she grabbed my cock and rubbed it on both sides of her face."

"Get your hair cut, man."

"I going there right now," Billy cried. He could hardly speak he was so excited.

"You lucky fuck."

"You gots to start working with that doll or do something real bad to make your Mom want to cure you. I mean, am I lucky I was such a badass, or what?"

I hung up while Billy was still cackling. I was super jealous. Mom had given me a real treat this morning but I couldn't imagine her letting me do what Billy's mom had promised. I thought about Mrs. Hammond's pretty, haughty face. Yeah, I could blow a wad on it, I sure could.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

I watched Mom closely at lunch, maybe too closely.

"What?" she asked, eyebrows raised.

"Nothing," I answered. "Just thinking."

"Thinking about what?" she pressed.

"Nothing, just...I don't know."

Mom walked over and put her hand on my shoulder, her soft fingers curling around the base of my neck making me draw in my breath. She had a way about her. Even an innocent touch like that got me excited, as evidenced by my tightening shorts. 

"Tell me," she said in a lower voice."

"You'll get mad at me."

"No I won't. Tell me," Mom whispered.

"I can't."

"Is it about what happened this morning?"

I nodded.

"Was it too much? Do you want to quit? We can, you know. We'll just pretend none of it ever happened."

"Oh no, Mom. I don't want to stop. What happened was wonderful. I never want to stop doing stuff like that."

Mom had been leaning down but she pulled up a bit in response to my enthusiasm and seemed a little disappointed by my response.

"Okay. Well, I meant what I said about not going further, you know, actually doing it, if that's what you're hinting at."

"No, it isn't that."

"Oh, I see. Well you don't have to do that for me again if that's what you mean. It was wonderful and it's been a long time since a man did that for me...gosh, I think I was dating, has it really been that long? Anyway, I've lived without that for a long time so don't worry about it, but I'll still be nice to you as long as you stay out of trouble and get busy figuring out what you want to do with your life."

Mom took a needed breath, kissed the top of my head and hugged me, pressing her breast into the side of my face. I turned toward her and nestled between her boobs. They were so ample and soft. My hands found their way around her waist and managed to drop down to cup her buttocks.

"I don't mind doing that, Mom. In fact, I like doing it."

"You do?"

"Yeah."

I kissed her belly through her blouse, then lowered my head and kissed the front of her skirt.

"I should finish making lunch," Mom said as I planted two more kisses on her skirt.

I dropped my hands down to grasp Mom's legs just below the hem of her skirt and pressed my face more firmly into her skirt.

"Jeff, I really should make lunch."

My hands slipped up the back of Mom's legs, inside the skirt, and cupped her bottom. I ducked my head, caught the hem on the bridge of my nose, and lifted it until my nose connected with Mom's panties.

"Jeff, stop that. I'm hungry. Aren't you hungry?"

"Very," was my muffled reply, my nose finding the magic groove. I flicked my tongue out and licked the cotton.

"Ohhhhhh, Jeff. Don't."

She may have said don't but Mom's hands curled around the back of my head and her hips swayed, brushing her mound across my nose. I extended my tongue and lapped the front of her panties, slid off to trail along the edge of each leg, and then returned to the front. 

"Jeff, we shouldn't."

I ignored what Mom was saying because I knew we were going to. She was speaking for her own consumption, convincing herself that she didn't really want to but probably would ... to help me. Fine. I needed help several times a day and the sooner I could get Mom into the habit of helping me that often, the better. I'd chew on her mound all day if I could get what I wanted. I started tugging Mom's panties down.

"Oh, Jeff. No, no."

No? Then why did Mom pull my face into her muff? The panties stretched as I yanked them down her thighs and were halfway to her knees before they snapped away from her sticky pussy. Immediately, I engulfed her mound in my mouth. 

"Awww Gawd, Jeff. Don't," Mom moaned.

Munch, munch, munch.

"Jesus, no, no, don't."

Lap, lap, lap, licking her sparse sprinkle of hair until it was flat and glistening along and above her pubes.

"That's so good," she murmured. "So fucking good."

I pushed two fingers into Mom's cunt. She moaned loudly and her legs trembled. I steered her around to the next kitchen chair, slipping off mine onto my knees, following her around the table. I lost her pussy as Mom plopped down on the chair but she pushed her hips forward, legs wide, eager to renew contact. I granted her wish.

I licked and lapped Mom while working my fingers in her hole. I did my best to make it an even better experience than our morning session which I guessed wasn't just the first one in a long time, it was the best she'd ever had. I wanted to top that because there was something I wanted Mom to do when I was finished. I wanted her to think she owed me.

So I teased her maternal pussy mercilessly. Whenever she was close and starting up Mount Olympus I held back until she regained control, then began the onslaught again. Once, when I withdrew my fingers too far and slipped out of her cunt, I missed going back in and skidded below, past Mom's ass. She flinched but I quickly got into the proper place and we began the upward spiral again. A minute or two later, I missed again and scraped across Mom's anus. The next time was on purpose. 
<hr pg="10" />The way Mom sucked her breath in, I knew she had never felt that before, or at least, had never allowed it. I kept my finger pressed against the little hole but didn't try to push it in. Moving my mouth higher, I flicked her clit, then dragged the tip of my tongue delicately around her bud, flicked again, licked softly, then returned for a few laps and finally thrust my tongue in hard and deep. That's when I ventured my first probe into Mom's ass, just to the first knuckle but I almost came in my pants I was so excited. 

Now I had a second reason to work Mom up. She had to want what I was doing so bad she would let me do this and the other thing I had planned, the thing Billy was hoping to get from his mom. I don't think Mom would do these things just to keep me from painting graffiti or stealing a car. She needed her own internal motivation. 

I inserted my thumb in Mom's slippery pussy and left my finger embedded knuckle deep in her ass while I licked and sucked and tickled and teased and flicked, bringing Mom close several times and pulling back. Finally, I missed the cusp and couldn't haul Mom back down the slope so I put my heart into to it and shoved her over the top as hard as I could. I had little experience to compare her response but I don't think many women can run an orgasm as long as Mom did that afternoon. When she was spent, she flopped back in the chair, hair strewn about her face, the epitome of rapture.

I stood and nudged Mom's feet together, then her knees, and straddled her thighs. Mom seemed exhausted and simply watched me with listless eyes. I leaned down and started undoing her blouse. She didn't object. I parted the blouse and pushed it off her shoulders and part way down her arms, then pulled the sleeves over her hands. Mom lifted her arms half-heartedly to help me, a wan smile gracing her face. She didn't even protest when I unhooked her bra and peeled it off and for the first time saw her magnificent, on the larger side of medium tits. Despite their softness, which I had felt when I pressed my face into them earlier, they were surprisingly firm. Their sag only served to make them look sexier when they finally swept away from her chest, jutting out, topped by big stiff nipples, no doubt still agitated from my efforts below.

Mom smiled and I wondered if she was pleased by the surprise and pleasure in my eyes upon seeing her wonderful tits. She was still smiling when I started to unbuckle my pants but when I opened them the smile faded. Mom looked serious as I pulled the waistband of my undershorts out to free my cock. Mom held her hand up, holding me in abeyance.

"Jeff, promise me you'll never steal anything again, or damage anyone's property, and you'll start doing something with your life."

"I promise, Mom." I starting to pull my cock out again but Mom covered my hand with hers.

"I mean it, Jeff. I know what you want to do and I want you to promise me even if I never 'help' you again."

I adopted a solemn, humble look, "I promise, Mom. I'll never paint another building, steal a car or break into a store, and I'll get off my ass." 

Mom pulled her hand away and I freed my cock. She took it into her hand, played with it until it stiffened, then started jacking it. I let my arms fall and grabbed two handfuls of tit, satisfied to knead her flesh while she stroked mine. I was about to get one of the things I wanted and was happy to let her play with my cock as much as she wanted. It was bigger than Dad's, I knew, because I had seen him when we used the showers at the beach. Maybe my cock could trigger one of her internal motivations.

Fuck, life was good. To be standing here in my the kitchen while my mother jacked me off, was unimaginable just two days ago. Yet here I was, serenely allowing my mother to caress my cock until I decided to unload in her face. Fucking hell, it was greatl to be alive.

I was really hard now. Time to put it into her mouth. I took hold of my meat, displacing Mom's hands, stroked it a few times, then brought it near her face. Mom grabbed her tits and pushed them together and up, offering them to me. 

"You want to spray them, don't you Jeff?" she asked, waving them in front of me.

That wasn't what I wanted but she seemed to think it would be special, so I nodded. 

"First, some of this," I said, placing the tip of my cock on Mom's chin and one hand on the top of her forehead. I pressed back and held her chin down until her mouth opened. I slid inside.

Oh, mother of all holies! To slide into a woman's warm, wet, inviting mouth was an incredible feeling but to push your pole into your mother's mouth, now that is pure bliss. Slowly, I began to pump Mom's mouth. Mom was docile, adeptly accepting my thrusts while she continued to hold her tits ready for me to deposit my spunk in case I should suddenly need to do so. But I had other plans.

I fucked Mom's face like I licked her pussy. Every time I started to get carried away, I pulled out and breathed deeply, trying to last. Mom seemed to understand my desire to enjoy this for as long as I could. After all, she had implied that she might never do it again. After a long time, Mom dropped her tits and began stroking my balls with her fingers. I suspect she was growing tired and needed to make me come. 

I pulled out every third stroke in an effort to calm myself down, then every second, and finally after every deep shove into her mouth. Mom urged me back in every time, clearly wanting me to finish.

"I won't do this for you every day," she gasped.

Well, at least she was going to do it again. I pushed back toward her mouth but, like my finger had done below, I missed and skidded across her cheek. Quickly, I pulled back and put it in her mouth.

"Do it now baby," Mom urged, pulling me toward her mouth as soon as I pulled out.

Her words excited me and I flexed my hips forward but missed again, skidding across the other cheek. Pulling back, I pushed onto Mom's lips and alongside her nose, then up and over to the other cheek. Gently, I rested the tip of my cock in her eye socket, then slowly dragged back over her slick face, dipped into her mouth, and spread the saliva onto her other cheek. Mom looked up at me, comprehension dawning in her eyes.

"My god, is that what you want?"

I wasn't sure what she was thinking but I nodded anyway. She took a deep breath.

"Not every time, baby, and maybe only once."

I pushed into her mouth and fucked it for a dozen strokes while Mom tickled my balls. I spiraled out of control but didn't make any effort to stop it. I wasn't pulling out now, not when Mom might change her mind at any moment. Faster. Mom was moaning, encouraging me, motherfuck, I was coming. I yanked out, steadied my cock, and blew it into Mom's face.

I generated a huge load. No wonder, really. I blasted wad after wad, drenching Mom everywhere, all over her face, in her mouth, her hair, and even missing her head entirely, landing a gob on the floor behind her. Fuck, she would definitely never let me do this again. What a mess! 

I was amazed when I finished that Mom kept her mouth open, though she kept her eyes closed of necessity. I poked my cock back in and her lips closed over it, sucking hard, then loosening her tongue and swirling it delicately around my tip.

"Ahhhhh, God Mom, oh my God."

My hips jerked uncontrollably and I grabbed her shoulder to steady myself, squeezing out the last vestige of cum, barely a drop, as Mom's tongue tickled the underside of my tip. Then I hung on just to hold myself up. When I pulled out, Mom got up and quietly left to go upstairs for a shower, ending the most awesome sexual experience of my short life. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Billy called just as we were finishing lunch and I told him I'd call him back.

"You don't need to go over to Billy's," Mom said after I snapped my phone shut.

"He's not that bad, Mom. In fact, he hasn't done anything bad for a while, just like me."

"I know," Mom said. "His mom is helping him so you don't need to."

"Mom, Billy is different than me. He needs outside encouragement."

"Perhaps I wasn't clear. You don't need to help Billy, or his mother. Understand?"

"I don't know..."

"Yes, you do. If you go over there, what happens here is done."

"Mom, I..."

"We don't need to discuss it. It's in the past, like your poor behavior."

I understood things a little differently now. Part of what motivated Mom, other than turning me in a new direction, was jealousy. 

"I've arranged something for you to play with that's less dangerous," Mom said. "Susan is coming over tomorrow for another photo shoot. I told her she should have some pics of herself with a handsome young model, remember?"

"Yes, mother," I pouted.

"Don't be like that."

"Okay," I replied. 

"Your father is coming home early today. Why don't you help me pick out what I should wear."

"I don't care what you wear for Dad."

"Not for Dad, for you."

"What? I don't get..."

"I want you to tell me what you'd like me to wear, underneath, when your father gets home."

"Oh." My eyes lit up.

"There's no time for that. You've had enough for one day."

"Come on. Let's to see if I have anything interesting."

So I picked out Mom's underwear. She wouldn't let me watch her put it on but later that afternoon and evening, at supper and beyond, I had a constant erection knowing Mom was wearing a black, lacy half bra and matching sexy panties under her skirt and blouse. When Dad wasn't looking, she smiled, pursed her lips, and pouted at me.

Well, Billy could look after himself and his mother was on her own. There was no way I was risking this.

Billy called and complained that he didn't get to blow his wad on his mom's face. All she did was jack him off and she even made him use a condom. Having been intimate with his mom, I was sure if Billy had a bigger dick, she would have done more. She was one horny, unsatisfied lady.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Mom rebuffed me the next morning.

"You have to look fresh and virile for Susan's photo shoot," she explained. 

I can handle Susan too, I thought, but hey, at least I wasn't cut off for good. I pushed it anyway, telling she looked good in the short dress that hugged her figure and asked what she was wearing underneath but she wouldn't tell me. I probed for details about her sex life with Dad but she wouldn't talk about it other than to say there wasn't much to talk about. 

"He puts all his imagination into his pictures," she sighed.

I surmised that sex with Dad was largely missionary style and maybe, maybe, the odd ride on top but possibly not even that. I wished she'd let me fuck her. I wanted to so badly it hurt. Every minute I was around her I wanted her more. 

Our relationship had definitely changed. We had always communicated reasonably well but now she was treating me almost as an equal and spoke to me straight and shamelessly. When I told her she looked so hot in the short dress that I wanted to take it off and lick her all over she just smiled sweetly instead of slapping me for being vulgar.

"I don't care what you say, I'm not letting you do anything until after Susan's photo shoot."

Susan arrived shortly after lunch wearing a cute summer print that advertised her tanned legs and firm body. Her blonde hair bounced around her shoulders as she moved, vying for attention but losing out to her perky breasts. Mom led her directly into the studio, calling for me to follow, and put me to work on the lighting, adjusting lamps and reflectors, but soon incorporated me into the shots.

"Women love to see themselves with younger men," she explained. "Even though they're older, they'll see themselves as you and that will help you get magazine work."

"But the agent suggested I get some pictures with an older man," Susan replied.

"Oh yes, that's great too, for car and golf commercials. Maybe we should get some pictures of you with my husband," Mom mused.

Susan laughed and admonished Mom. "Sandra, that's not nice. Anyway, Jeff's here now." She grasped my upper arm with both of hers and tugged me closer to her side, then slipped her arm around my waist and bumped me with her hip. "How's this?"

Susan launched a huge smile at the camera and Mom immediately took several shots. After that, Mom didn't worry about the lighting and I stayed close to Susan which she didn't seem to mind, keeping in contact by touching my hand or bumping against me. We joked around constantly, forcing Mom to prod us into being serious until she gave up and told us to just have fun in front of the camera. That's when Mom began directing us to adopt increasingly intimate poses. Although Susan didn't resist the instructions I sensed she wouldn't have gone along so easily without Mom's directions.

So instead of posing with my arm around Susan's shoulders or waist, I found myself standing behind her with my hands on her tummy while she leaned forward, pushing her bum into me and smiling either innocently or provocatively at the camera. Then Mom would have her spin around and arch her back over my arms while I leaned over her breasts, both of us laughing gaily, of course. 

For some reason, Mom needed to take these shots over and over and somehow, when I helped Susan spin around to face away from me, my hands would slide up her tummy and bump the bottom of her breasts. Once, I kept my hands pressed up, keeping her breasts lifted while Mom took the shot.

"Perfect," Mom cried. "Keep doing that."

She didn't explain what it was we should keep doing but both of us knew what she meant and for every shot after that where Susan was leaning back against me, I held her breasts up, even twisting my hands up to cup them. I became very familiar with her tits, since she wasn't wearing a bra, and the supple buttocks that Susan pressed into my groin without any suggestion from me or Mom. She couldn't have missed the effect she was having on me as several times she brushed sideways only to be halted by the settling of my erection in the crease between her cheeks.

On one shot where Susan was leaning over, bracing her arms on the upholstered bench, while I tucked my body tightly to hers, I urged her slowly forward, my fingers stretching from where my hands pressed against her ribcage, pushing her breasts out as they began to dangle. 

"Fantastic," Mom cried and launched the camera on an automatic action series, setting off a rapid series of clicks as Susan fell forward onto her elbows, her breasts brushing over the leather-cushioned bench with my upturned palm underneath just as my hips banged her ass against the end of the bench.

We paused, as if both in a bit of shock over what had just happened. Seizing the moment, I dropped my right arm and, grabbing the hem of Susan's dress, dragged it high up her thigh.

"Lovely," Mom cried, crouching as she came closer, snapping several more shots.

I pulled the dress up onto Susan's hips.

"What sexy lingerie!" Mom exclaimed. She lowered the camera and approached Susan's side, taking hold of her dress and lifting it even higher. "We must get some shots of these," she said.

Mom backed away. "Stand in front of the bench," she demanded.

Susan and I stood in front of the bench, side by side, arms around each other's waist.

"No, no, no," Mom said. "Get behind her, Jeff."

I squeezed behind Susan.

"That's it. Now, Jeff, pull her against you and hold the dress up."

I reached down and started to pull Susan's yellow print up her right thigh.

Mom clicked. "Farther," she said.

I pulled the dress higher.

"Farther."

I pulled the dress up more, slowly, waiting for Mom to say when I should stop. Susan began to tense up as the hem neared the top of her thigh but Mom remained silent, sans instructions. I stopped.

"Higher," Mom whispered.

I raised my hand, dragging the dress up until a pair of black, lacy panties appeared. 

"That's it," Mom hissed.

I pulled my hand up another inch.

"Perfect," Mom whispered.

Susan was trembling. So was I, with delight and desire.

"Move your hips around, Susan. Slowly," Mom barked. "That's it, just push out...yes, now pull back...and out again...yeah, keep doing that, in an oval."

The camera clicked. Susan's bum pushed into my cock, rubbed across it and left, then reappeared to tease me again, and again, and again. Mom took so many pictures. She didn't need that many for one pose but neither Susan nor I complained. The dress kept sliding up higher and higher until the bottom swell of one tit peeked out.

"Incredible," Mom whispered, angling the camera up to capture Susan's tit. "Such a natural beauty."

Susan relaxed in my arms.

"Pull it higher," Mom said. "Stay still," she snapped at Susan, freezing her bum on my cock. 

"Higher."

I pulled the dress up until Susan's bare breasts flopped free, bouncing, then settling down to a quiver as Mom snapped another dozen shots. The camera lowered.

"Move your feet apart," Mom whispered as the camera focused on Susan's panties.

Susan hesitated.

"Spread your legs!"

Susan opened her thighs and turned her head sideways as if to hide her shame. Mom's camera clicked and clicked. I pulled the dress up to cover Susan's face and thrust forward, my cock digging into the soft firmness of her ass, pushing it out until Mom uttered another superlative.

"Great, that's great."

Mom took pictures for another two minutes while I kept Susan's panties thrust forward and her face covered, my hand covering her covered mouth. Despite the temporary sanctuary, I sensed Susan's face getting red. 

"Enough," I said.

"Pull her back and bend her over the end of the bench."

I started to obey.

"Keep the dress up," Mom commanded.

I pressed Susan against the end of the bench and she dutifully leaned forward but, unlike before, her feet were apart, allowing me to fit very snugly into her behind.

"Push the dress up over her head."

I pushed the dress up and Susan stretched her arms out to accommodate. She kept her arms out while I turned the dress inside out onto them, baring the sexy panties and uncovering her breasts which now pressed naked into the leather bench. 

"Push her down flat."

I pressed down on the small of Susan's back and she complied with Mom's command. The camera clicked. I pushed against Susan's ass, rubbing my hardness between her soft cheeks. 

"Grab her hips."

I put my hands on Susan's bare hips. Click, click, click.

"Stretch her panties out."

I wasn't sure what Mom meant.

"Grab the straps on her hips and pull them out."

I grasped the straps and did as Mom said. I pulled them out and back, effectively denuding Susan's supple ass.

"Good, good." Click, click, click. "Now, pull them back until they're stretched across her thighs, under her bum."

I did it. Rather than stretching tight, the straps hung loosely across Susan's thighs. Her bottom was now bare. I don't know what was holding the panties against her pussy.

"Okay, Jeff. Now, lean forward and grab Mrs. Gordon's hair."

Mom's use of Susan's last name, emphasizing her married status, shocked me. I looked at Mom.

"Grab Mrs. Gordon's hair," she insisted.

I leaned forward and grabbed a handful of Susan's hair.

"Pull her head up," Mom said. "Gently!"

I tugged on Susan's hair and it came up, but only because Susan helped.

"Grab the dress with your other hand and pull it off so we can see Mrs. Gordon's face."

I had to press hard into Susan's ass to lean far enough forward to getl the dress off her head and arms. It was a struggle that my cock enjoyed and Susan endured stoically for at least a minute. I was so hard.

Mom took pictures the whole time and when the dress was off, she instructed me to turn Susan's head this way and that, always referring to her as Mrs. Gordon. Several times, she had me pull Susan back so far it seemed her back would double over, but Mom was satisfied with the effect, lifting Susan's tits from the bench so they thrust out and her very stiff nipples jutted into the air. 
<hr pg="11" />I got so hard I had to loosen the button at the top of my shorts and the zipper immediately spread them wide open and they slid down my legs until only my boxers were covering my huge erection. It bulged against the stretchy, black material and I nestled it against Susan's bare ass just above her matching black panties, still clinging to her pussy.

"Rock against her."

I complied immediately, bulging my cock against Susan's ass repeatedly. The camera click, more of an intrusion now than an excuse or instigation but Susan didn't seem to mind and I let her hair slip from my grasp. Her forehead dropped onto the bench and her bum pushed into me as I slipped the hand that had been holding her hair around to grasp her tit. My other hand flipped the waistband of my boxers down, freeing my cock. I grabbed it and steered it toward Susan's moist pussy.

"STOP!"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

I was furious with Mom after Susan left. She had as much as offered to get me into Susan's pants and then stopped me right when I was on the verge of success. WTF?

There was only one possible explanation: Mom was jealous and wanted me for herself; only, she couldn't bring herself to go that last step. Well, I would fix that. She must be close to have done what she did, but a little extra attention to the doll wouldn't hurt before turning the heat on Mom to push her over the edge.

I retrieved the doll from under my pillow where I now kept it, totally nude, and started my standard work up: teasing strokes with the dainty paintbrush interspersed with strategically placed licks from the tip of my tongue. I was in a rush to get down to Mom before the erotic glow from the photo shoot wore off but, as it was, I spent too much time on the doll.

"What the hell are you doing?" Mom demanded.

I shrunk into the bed, curling over to hide the doll, but it was way too late for that. Mom grabbed my shoulder and pried me onto my back, exposing the doll I held in one hand. I had let the paintbrush drop but Mom saw it. 

"So, you have one of those too, do you?"

I stared at Mom, unmoving, still shell-shocked by her unexpected entrance.

"Where did you get it? From Billy?"

I remained mute.

"Vanessa didn't think Billy would know what to do with it, thought he might stick pins in it, but you knew exactly what to do, didn't you?" Mom accused.

My eyes widened in a dumb expression of ignorance but Mom smiled and reached out to touch the doll.

"It doesn't look much like me," she mused, "but you still thought it would work?" She looked down at my crotch, which for some reason remained swollen, and laughed. "Apparently so."

Mom's hand moved south and smoothed the front of my shorts.

"You're turning your life around, Jeff, and that's the reason for what's happened. A little more than I bargained for but, as long as you stay on track, I'll keep my end of the bargain. You don't need this doll."

Mom pried the doll from my fingers and let it fall onto the bed. She leaned over me, the palm of her hand rubbing and pressing along the underside of my shaft bulging under my shorts.

"Did that little tramp make you hot?" she cooed, dragging her breasts up my chest, her free arm curling around my neck as she buried her face and started nibbling my neck. Her hand pressed harder on my cock and her fingers started undoing my shorts. As soon as my cock was freed Mom captured it in her hand, squeezing tight as she pulled it up into prominence. "You don't need her either," Mom purred.

Mom's lips covered mine and her tongue inserted itself in my mouth, her hand gripping my cock hard.

"I wasn't thinking about her," I gasped when Mom pulled her face up from mine. "I was thinking about you."

"Oh? Were you thinking of that dirty thing you did to me yesterday? You're so bad," Mom rasped, "but that's okay, as long as it's at home."

I could tell by the huskiness of Mom's voice that she was super excited. Her legs had been churning on mine and she suddenly shifted on top of me, bending my cock back and pressing it flat with her tummy. She found my mouth again and kissed me hard, pushing her tongue inside. I found her skirt-covered ass and fondled her cheeks but it humped against me of its own accord without any pressure from my hands. 

She was urgent. I needn't have worried about her losing her edge. The excitement instilled by watching me with Susan was still burning, desperate for release. If she wasn't still wearing her skirt and panties, Mom wouldn't be dry humping me, we'd be fucking. She was ready to be taken.

I flipped the skirt up onto Mom's back and grabbed her pantied ass, sucking her tongue deeper into my mouth. After a few multi-fingered digs between her legs along the back of her panties, I yanked them down, baring her ass. Mom moaned and I immediately explored her wet lips while the sound was still fresh in my ears. 

Pressing my cock up hard, I wiggled it from side to side until damp groove find its proper place around my shaft. Humping upward, I shifted her onto my fingers squeezing between her ass and the panties stretched across the back of her thighs. Gradually, I worked her farther onto my fingers until her pussy was filled with them. I sucked my gut in to make room for my left hand, squeezed it between our bellies to grasp my cock, and angled it upward until it nudged into her puffy lips at the entrance to the Holy Grail.

"No, Jeff!" Mom cried, suddenly becoming aware of my intention and jerking her hips back to foil me. "We can't, I told you we can't," she wailed, the damp, taboo garden hovering above my yearning tip. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. Anything else, but not that."

"Please, Mom. I need you," I whined, trying through a series of upward stabs to embed myself in the forbidden nectar. 

"No, I can't. Let me suck you instead."

Mom tried to slide down but my hand held her ass in place.

"No, I want you," I demanded.

"I'm sorry, honey." She kissed my face, gently, true sorrow filling her face. "I'll let you do that thing again, on my face," she offered.

I shook my head. "No. I don't want to do that anymore."

"Why?" Mom asked. "I don't mind. Really." Her fingers tickled my face.

"Yes you do. I don't know why I did it but I felt bad after."

"But you liked it when you did it, didn't you?"

"Yes," I admitted.

"Did it make you feel strong and manly?" Mom teased, her lips brushing mine.

"I guess."

"Good. I like it when you feel like that, in control of your life, and not stealing cars or painting walls."

"I'd feel really powerful if you let me do you."

"I can't let you do that, Jeff. I'll let you do that other thing, but not that."

"What about drugs?" I played my trump card.

Mom stiffened. "What about them?"

"I won't do drugs if you let me."

There, it was out. I had made my play. We never talked about my sister. It was a taboo subject. Nevertheless, I was dead set against drugs, but Mom didn't know that, not for sure, anyway.

I pushed my hips up until my cock grazed Mom's belly. She relaxed and lowered herself until her moist heat was pressing me flat on my stomach again. 

"Don't ever do drugs. You hear me?"

"I won't, Mom, as long as you let me," I whispered, rubbing my cock on her softness, loving her moistness clutching my balls.

"If you do drugs, I'll never talk to you again."

"I won't, Mom."

Mom pulled her hips up and I readied my cock for the sweet entrance. This was going to be glorious, simply glorious.

Mom kept drawing back, then lifted herself onto one knee and swung off my bed.

"And get rid of that silly doll."

She turned and walked out of the room, panties still stretched around bottom of her ass, pushing her skirt down into place.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

I was stunned. I had fucked up, big time, gone for the gold and got dirt. What did I do now? Here I was, having almost won the lottery, sitting on my bed with a big hardon and no way to satisfy it. As the full weight of my failed attempt settled over me, my cock wilted with each pang of regret. Was it all over?

I was at the depth of despair, shoulders hunched and cock limp, when the phone buzzed. It was Billy. Fuck, I didn't want to listen to his whining. I had my own issues to deal with. What the fuck, I opened the phone.

"Hey man, what's happening?"

"Nothing," I said, unable to conceal the sound of my crushing defeat.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," I barked.

"Oh, still can't get your old lady to cough up." He laughed at the implication of his words. "Sorry man, but listen up. This will make you feel better. You remember last time how pissed off I was about Mom not letting me blow my wad on her?"

"Yeah," I replied sullenly. "So what?"

"Well, I just finished giving her a paint job," he chuckled. "And, I mean a two-coater, a real doozer."

"What are you talking about?"

"I covered her, dude, in my paint, my goo," Billy laughed loudly. 

"How..."

"She came downstairs last night after Dad went to bed and we started the same old, same old, you know. Eventually, she undid my pants and started to go down on me but I said no, so she says, 'What's up?' so I pull out a lude and say she's been so good to me I have to be honest with her, that I've been doing drubs but this is my last one and I won't do anymore."

"You pulled it out right in front of her?"

"Yeah," Billy giggled. "I remembered I had rubbed the doll's nose in it, saying to myself, if you won't let me blow on you I'll do this right under your fucking nose. Anyway, she looks at it and says, 'I was afraid you might be doing drugs.' So I say, I don't anymore and start to throw it on the table. Then I stops and asks her if she's ever done any and she says 'No' but I can see she's lying, so I says, why don't we do it together, your first and my last? She says 'No' and I say come on, Mom and she finally relents, so we do it."

"You got your old lady to do a lude?"

"Yeah! It was awesome, man. We got all high and giggly and then she starts going over a bit and I got worried for a while but she was okay so I pull her head down and put my cock into her mouth. Well, shit, by this time I'm all soft and everything but her mouth feels good and I start getting hard. What a feeling, pushing your soft cock into a woman's mouth and feeling it get hard while its all warm and wet."

"So, she's pretty listless, right? I start humping but her head's flopping around so I grab it and start pulling it up and down on my cock and I realize this is exactly what I was hoping she would let me do and maybe I can do whatever I want in the state she's in so I start fucking her face for real, really going to town on it. Well, man, she just takes whatever I dish out. Hard, soft, deep, into her cheeks, pulling it out and slapping her face with it, anything I can think of. So I get her around onto her back on the coffee table, with a pillow at one end and her head hanging over it, and start fucking her throat."

"Jesus Christ, Billy."

"Yeah, I know," he cried, misinterpreting my outburst. "Fucking awesome, hey?"

"Yeah, sure," I said.

"Anyway, she doesn't take it too well at first, gagging and stuff, but then she gets used to it and I'm like fucking her face for real man, and then I just unloaded on her. All over. Fuck, it was hot. I covered her face and it looked so fucking hot, then I jacked off and dropped another load on her."

"Jesus Christ, Billy," I repeated, this time the disgust showing through.

"I know, I know," he responded in glee. "That ain't the half of it. I sat on the couch and waited for her to get up but she didn't. She just lay there, covered in my shit, so I went to the bathroom and got a towel and cleaned her up. Thank God the old man didn't wake up and come down. Wouldn't that have been a fucker, to see her like that with my shit all over her face?"

"Yeah, you'd be dead."

"Maybe. Anyway, I clean her up but she's still lying there like that and after a while I start getting horny again. I'm looking at her tits, pushed up through her tight sweater, and I can tell she's not wearing a bra so I pull it up and start playing around. Well, damned if her nips don't perk right up, so I pull her skirt up and start playing with her snooch and she just lays there, man!"

"What did you do? Finger her?"

"Finger her?" Billy guffawed. "I fucked her!"

"You fucked her?" Envy filled my voice.

"Yeah. I picked her up and put her on the couch. I shoved her sweater up so I could grab her tits, pushed her legs way up and got on top of her, yanked her panties off and was in her in two secs, humping away. She wasn't very wet but she got there soon enough."

"Holy Christ," I mumbled, picturing Billy crouched over his sexy-looking mom, legs thrown back over her shoulders, humping up and down.

"I didn't last long," he admitted, "but I had her a second time and that took me a while."

"So you think she'll remember?" I asked, displaying my ignorance of drugs.

"It was just a lude, man. She knew what was happening, she just didn't care."

"So you think she'll let you do it without the drugs?"

"Naw, probably not."

"Too bad," I sympathized but in reality feeling glad.

"We did another one this afternoon after I got home from work and I did her again."

"What?"

"Yeah! Mom likes the ludes. I used to think she was a real bitch, man," he laughed, "and she is... my bitch. I can have her anytime I want, any way I want," he cackled. 

"As long as she's on drugs."

"Yeah, probably, but I got lots of drugs. I think I might do her in the ass tonight."

"Goodbye, Billy."

"What, you're still pissed because your old lady won't let you do anything?"

"I don't think you should be giving drugs to your old lady."

"Fuck you. You're just jealous, you wiener. Give me some buck for dope and maybe I'll let you have a crack at her. We can take turns unloading on the bitch," Billy cackled.

I hung up. What an asshole.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Looking around the store, I almost ran out. It seemed eons ago that Billy and I had first come in here but it was just as eerie. Footsteps shuffled toward me from behind the hanging beads although I had entered quietly and there was no door chime. The beads parted and the caricature pushed through. I couldn't help stepping back.

"So, it didn't work and now you want your money back?"

"Yeah, I guess it didn't," I mumbled.

She opened the box. "You didn't stick it full of pins, or nothing, did you?"

"No. I don't hate my mother."

She lifted the doll toward the ceiling, as if there was more light there in which to examine it. 

"No, I 'spose not," she said. "Not like that other kid, anyway."

"You want some money back?"

"I guess."

"You guess? Maybe you'd like another try?"

"It doesn't work," I said.

"That's because you need two of them," the caricature said, smiling in a way that somehow made her look less ugly.

"We got two of them. Billy's keeping his."

"That's not what I mean. I mean, you need two to make this one do what you want."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Look at me boy."

I looked at her. It was hard, not because of the way she looked but because her gaze was penetrating.

"I know what you want the doll to do and it can do it, but it needs help."

I gulped. "What kind of help?"

"Like I said, another doll, or I could give you ten bucks for this one."

"Ten bucks, that's all?"

"This is a business, not a charity." Her voice softened, "Tell you what. You try the other doll&#x2014;I'll give it to you for free&#x2014;and if it doesn't work, bring them both back and I'll give you twenty bucks."

"I take two dolls, and you'll give me twenty, otherwise you'll only give me ten for this one?" I paraphrased to make sure I understood.

"You got it, sugar." I was treated to a hoarse, smoker's laugh, then seriously, "But you have to promise to give it a good try."

"A good try?"

"You know what I mean."

I blushed.

"Yes, I see you do." The hoarse laugh erupted again. "It worked for that other woman's kid."

She couldn't have meant Billy. I'd already mentioned him.

"Gary?" I asked.

"We don't use no names in here," she was serious again.

"Okay," I said.

Fifteen minutes later I walked out of the store, the doll of Mom in the box, along with another that was a very poor likeness of me.

"The best I can do on short notice," she had said.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

I didn't know what to do with the new doll. I had taken it only because I could get twenty bucks when I brought them both back instead of ten just for the one of Mom. So, I'd wait a few days and take it back.

I avoided Mom as much as possible but still had to eat dinner with her and Dad. She was nice as pie to me but I was sure that was so Dad didn't suspect there was something wrong between us. I was polite but not forthcoming. I simply felt awkward in Mom's presence now and just wanted to get up to my room so I could be alone. 

Billy called a couple of times but I ignored him. The only sound in my room was the distant sound of the television downstairs. About ten o'clock my parents came upstairs and took turns using their bathroom, then everything was quiet. 

I browsed around on the internet, hung out on a gaming site for a while, then got tired of it and went to bed. I lay there for at least an hour, unable to get to sleep. Frustrated, I got the dolls out of the box, laid them on my bed, and looked at them. How the hell was the extra doll, the one of me, supposed to make the other one work? I didn't get it. Didn't the old witch know how far it had taken me? Despite what Mom said, I didn't believe for a minute she would have done what she had just to stop me from doing graffiti or joy-riding in someone's car and, evidently, even from doing drugs. 

So what was I supposed to do with two dolls? Rub them together? I put the one of me on top of Mom but it fell off. Disgruntled, I opened Mom's arms and legs and nestled me between, then pushed Mom's arms and legs around me. The dolls stayed together, with me stretched out in the missionary position on top of Mom, her raised and spread knees keeping me from rolling off. 

So what now? I pushed down on the ass of the me-doll, rocking it into the mom-doll, in a simulated fucking motion. Hump, hump, hump. 

How fucking ridiculous. I laughed out loud and knocked the dolls apart.

"Shhhhhh, you'll wake your father," Mom whispered.

I whirled around. Mom was gently pushing my door closed, taking great care to be quiet. She turned back to me, smiled, then walked toward me.

"Mind if I sit down?"

I shifted sideways, away from Mom, belatedly seeing that I was leaving the dolls near her beside one of the pillows, but she didn't seem to see them.

"Are you still mad at me?" Mom asked.

"No. I thought you were mad at me."

"I was, but only for a while. I still love you, I'll always love you."

"You're not angry because of what I said?"

"Not any more. I know you were just trying to get something you really wanted." Mom reached out and brushed the side of my face. "I could never stay mad at you sweetie."

"But you said..."

"I know what I said but I also know that you'd never do drugs, not after what happened to your sister, and if you did I would be there to help you. I would never turn you away."

I choked back tears.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't mean what I said."

"I know you didn't, dear," Mom comforted me, leaning down to hug me. "I know you loved your sister."

I put my arms around Mom's shoulders and squeezed her tight. I kissed the side of her face and then hugged her harder.

"I'm sorry I tried to push you. I know you can't. I understand."

"That's all right, baby. Now we know where we stand and we can just carry on from where we left off."
<hr pg="12" />"Really?" I whispered. It sounded too good to be true.

"Really," Mom assured me, lifting her head and lowering her mouth to engage me in a kiss that was definitely not maternal. Her body shifted, changing from a sitting position to stretch out alongside of me, one leg reaching over the top of mine. When the kiss ended, Mom stroked my face delicately with the fingers of one hand.

"I was afraid you'd be too mad about what I tried to do, and what I did on your...face."

"I told you I understood about that. God forbid, something a little out there once in a while won't hurt me," Mom laughed. "Your father's so boring," she said, stretching out the last word.

"So you really not mad?"

"No. It shocked me but afterward, when I thought about it, it made me feel slutty and kinda sexy."

"Really?"

"Yeah, to be able to get you so worked up, so out of control. It was a rush."

"I was definitely out of control," I laughed.

"I know," Mom whispered, lowering her hand from my face, trailing it down my chest and onto my underwear. "Did you miss me?" she asked, tickling the front of my shorts.

"Did I miss you?" I laughed, lurching in my shorts.

"Oh, I see you did."

Mom scratched my shorts and they immediately lumped up. 

"Fast acting," she giggled.

"Only to you," I said.

"Oh, I'm sure," Mom drawled.

"I didn't react that quickly to Susan," I countered.

"That's true," Mom agreed, sucking in her breath. "Do you want me to play with it?" she purred.

"Yes, Mom. I'd love you to play with it."

"You wanted to do Susan, didn't you?"

"Only because I couldn't have you."

"Pffft. You're a young. You'd do her anytime."

"Not if I was doing you."

Mom shifted fully on top of me, then lifted herself and reached down to pull me out of my shorts before dropping her weight onto me. She ground herself onto my cock.

"Really? If I had let you, do me as you say, you wouldn't do it with anyone else?"

"I couldn't," I gasped as mom twisted her pussy on my cock, thinly-veiled by a flimsy set of panties. "I love you."

"I know you do, honey."

Mom rubbed her pussy up and down on my cock, fitting her groove around my shaft, then lifted her shoulders up and wiggled her breasts free of her nightgown.

"Suck them," she whispered.

I filled my mouth with Mom's tits and found her ass with my hands, going directly underneath the nightgown to cover the wisp of panty covering her cheeks. I sucked, thoroughly happy with the world. Mom worked her pussy all over my cock, never forgetting to keep her tits in the best sucking position. Occasionally, she pushed my mouth off to kiss but soon re-engaged her tits and my mouth. 

She was getting really horny and didn't seem to mind that I had slid her panties under off her buttocks and didn't protest when I dragged them down her thighs, even pulling the center off her sticky pussy. I plied my fingers between her cheeks, spreading her wet pussy lips, and rubbed the edge of my right index finger the length of her pink slit. Any moment now, I knew, she would crawl up to cover my face with her pussy. A long bout of careful attention to her cunt would reward me with another awesome blowjob and, from what Mom had said, a dousing of her face. Now that I thought about it, I wasn't adverse to doing that. In fact, I was looking forward to it. My cock hardened into granite.

Mom hunched over me and I lost her nipple. She was dry-humping my cock with vigor. I turned my head to the side and was shocked by what I saw.

The dolls were together, one atop the other, and seemed to be moving. I shook my head and stared. No, they were still. It had been my imagination. Funny, the me-doll looked a lot like me now, almost identical, in fact. Weird.

I looked away, then turned back a little. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw both dolls moving, the mom-doll hunching over me much like Mom was doing right now and the one of me lifting its hips up. It looked like they were really fucking. I looked directly at them. There were dead still. Weirder.

I looked away. Mom was really getting into it. She'd need release soon. I slid my hands up to her panties, found the snap and yanked it apart. Another yank and they were gone. Mom was humping the length of my shaft with her bare pussy. I lowered my hand and found her hole, then slipped a couple of fingers inside. With my free hand, I found her spunky entrance and dipped in far enough to cover a fingernail.

"Oh God, this isn't what I came to do," Mom panted. 

Hump, hump, hump. I lunged up to meet every grind.

"I didn't mean to, I didn't want to, ohhhhh, Jeff, forgive me, forgive me."

"There's nothing to forgive," I gasped, overwhelmed by the slippery slide of her pussy lips along my shaft. Shit, I didn't want to talk either.

"Forgive me," Mom wailed, forgetting her caution to me about waking Dad.

She lifted herself, quickly found and grasped my cock, then lifted it and deftly slipped it inside her.

"Awwwww, Jesus, that feels good," she cried, throwing her head back and pushing herself forward, shoving her cunt fully onto my cock.

"Mom!" I cried, shocked, thrilled, and scared all at once. 

"Sorry, baby. I'm so sorry," Mom panted, her hips moving, thighs tensing and relaxing as she started fucking me. 

Mom was gasping for air, sucking it in and expelling it just as quickly. She fell forward, braced herself with her hands on my shoulders, and started humping me madly. Her hips churned as she released a long series of short thrusts accompanied by a constantly clutching, sometimes pulpy and other times muscular cunt, its walls continually sucking or squeezing, always moving, milking my cock.

Mom threw herself back again, slowing her pace, lengthening her thrusts, and let her head drop behind her shoulders.

"Oh, yeah," she wailed.

"Ungghhh, unghhh, unghhh."

I matched her sounds, straining up, striving to keep my cock as deep in her cunt as I could, feeling abandoned as it inevitably slid off and born again each time it returned in triumph before breaking completely away.

I was mumbling.

"What?" Mom asked.

"Nothing, don't...stop!"

"I won't, not ever," Mom cried.

We fucked in silence after that, except for our grunts and groans. Mom kept us going, stopping herself before going over the top but not as often as she somehow kept me from exploding. I was almost exhausted when Mom threw her head back for a final time and released a silent howl, then hunched forward to clutch me in her arms and she felt my own release filling her. We stayed like that for a long time, sweating, chests heaving, groins throbbing out the dregs of our love. 

After a long time, Mom rose up, looked to the side, and said, "I thought I told you not to play with dolls."

We must have laughed for five minutes.

"Was that better than spraying it all over my face?" Mom asked.

"Yeah, way better," I admitted, the truth obvious in my voice.

Mom laughed. "But if I feel raunchy, do you think you could handle it?"

"I have no objections," I said.

"That reminds me," Mom said. "What were you doing with your finger?"

"My finger?" I asked, innocently.

"Yes, your finger. It was in my...back there."

"It was?" 

"You know damned well it was."

"Sorry." My apology wasn't very convincing.

"I don't think I can get that raunchy," Mom said, sternly.

"I'm sorry, Mom," my apology became halfway sincere. "Maybe we can do another photo shoot with Susan, I mean, Mrs. Gordon."

Mom hugged me and, pressing her face close to mine, whispered in my ear, "I was just kidding."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

I returned the dolls the day. The old lady smiled knowingly but didn't say a word. I didn't ask for my money back and she didn't offer. 

As I was leaving, she said, "That one kid, he's still got his but I don't 'spect it back anytime soon." She cackled at her own joke.

I walked past the mall on my way home, thinking I'd get a small gift for Mom. As I walked down the embankment from the sidewalk behind the mall, I noticed some of our 'artwork' had been painted over. Things change, I mused to myself, and sometimes for the better. In the mall, I stopped in the lingerie shop and the girl helped me pick out something hot 'for my girlfriend'. Wouldn't she have been shocked if she knew who it was really for? 

On the way out, I stopped to have a burger. I didn't see them until after I sat down. Gary Robinson and his mom. They were engaged in casual conversation. Gary didn't look nervous at all. In fact, he looked really relaxed. I guess he wasn't afraid of being bullied anymore. Maybe Billy had 'pardoned' him because of his success with the doll. Even Billy could be gracious, I guess.

Gary looked up and saw me as I was leaving. At first, there wasn't any sign of recognition. Then, after he glanced down at the bag I was carrying, he looked at me and smiled. I looked down at my bag and then at the one beside his feet. 'Lady Lingerie' was scrawled in fancy, pink script across both black bags. I nodded and smiled back. His gaze returned to his mother, who was way more attractive than I remembered. Maybe I had just grown up. They looked like they belonged together.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Saturday was golf day. I waited until Dad's car left then crept into Mom's room. She was sleeping on her side with her back to me. I crawled in on Dad's side and waited patiently for my body to warm up before touching her, my erection building slowly in her heat as I listened to her light, measured breathing. It was a gorgeous morning, a good day for golf, for Dad, and for something else for Mom and me.

Mom didn't wake when I touched her, tentatively placing my hand on the inner curve of her waist, then slowly sliding it back and forth, up onto her hip and then back down and up her ribcage, sliding over the outer swell of her breast. She didn't wake when I nestled my hardon between her cheeks, or when I slipped my left hand underneath her to grasp her breast. I'm not sure when she awoke but the first indication was a small whimper when my right hand slid down the front of her pelvis until my palm rested on her mound and my fingers stretched down to tickle her groove. 

Several minutes later, she whispered, "Just what do you have in mind, young man?"

"Nothing," I replied.

"Ummhmmmm," Mom responded.

After that, we quietly enjoyed a long, increasingly intense yet casual caress. Eventually, Mom turned around so we could entwine our arms and legs around each other and not long after that, she let me roll on top of her. The long build up did me in. I finished early and flopped on my back. Mom, however, wasn't done. Within minutes she was atop me and rode me at her leisure. She looked so sexy, astride me with her back arched, arms up to push back her hair, hips never still. Ahhh, my mother, my love.

When she was done, lying still beside me, she said, "I think I'll renew your father's golf membership for his birthday."

Mom let me get on top of her one more time before Dad came home.

"Make it good," she said. "It has to last you until tonight."

She threw back her legs and I scrambled up to squat over her, pushing my cock down to enter her, and doing squat thrusts until I was spent and exhausted. Who says the missionary position isn't fun?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

It happened when I was on my way back from getting another set of sexy lingerie, months later. Mom loved wearing it under her clothes during the evenings and weekends when Dad was home. It got both of so hot our first clash when Dad left or went to bed was always frantic. Anyway, that's when I saw her: Gary's mom. She didn't look so sexy this time. In fact, she looked drawn and frayed, kind of pale, and her hair looked messy. As I walked toward her she bent her head to the side and pulled at it with her right hand. No wonder.

I sat down at her table.

"Hi Mrs. Robinson."

She looked up, faded eyes not recognizing me.

"It's Jeff. Gary and I used to play together."

A flicker.

"Oh yes," she replied, absently. "I remember."

"Is Gary here?" I asked.

"Here? No, he's gone away."

"Gone away? Where?"

Mrs. Robinson straightened up and patted her hair into place.

"Oh, to college," she said.

"College?" Gary was a geek but he wasn't Einstein. "Oh, I see," I said, looking away. I could see in Mrs. Robinson's eyes it wasn't true. "I didn't know he applied," I said.

Mrs. Robinson looked down at the floor, at the bag beside my feet. Her eyes welled up with tears but she didn't cry. She looked back at me and stretched her hands out to grasp mine.

"You're Sandra's boy, aren't you?"

"Yes," I acknowledged.

"That's good. I remember you now. Oh, Jeff. Gary isn't in college. He's left us again, gone into his own little world. He was doing so well, but now... I just don't know what to do. The doctors... they can't... they just don't..." Her voice trailed off and tears streamed down her cheeks and dripped onto the table as she looked down at it.

"He doesn't need doctors," I comforted her. "He needs you."

She looked up. 

"He needs his mother," I said, squeezing her hands.

"I wish that were true but I'm afraid I'm the cause of it all." She looked away.

"I don't believe that," I said. "Look where Gary was, how far he'd gone, and you brought him back, didn't you?"

Mrs. Robinson met my eyes, puzzlement turning to dawning realization. She looked at the bag by my feet, then met my eyes again, her own softening with comprehension. 

"Of course, you're Sandra's boy," she whispered.

"He needs his mother. Only she can bring him back again."

"How?"

"Get him out of wherever he is and bring him home."

"But he doesn't even recognize me."

Wow, this was way worse than I thought. I had thought Gary had just withdrawn like he had before, afraid to go outside, and that maybe Billy had something to do with it, so I figured if she coud get Gary home and I had a word with Billy, then...

"He won't even look at me. My own son."

"Then pretend you're someone else, only, get him out of there."

"Pretend I'm someone else? Who?"

"I don't know. Tell him you're a friend's Mom and he's supposed to stay with you or something."

Mrs. Robinson's thoughts turned inward. She was thinking, already concocting a plan. She focused on me again. "Yes, of course, I'm his mother. Thank you, Jeff. You're a wonderful boy. Say hello to Sandra for me." She got up. "I've got to go." Her face wasn't aglow but it had purpose. 

"You say hi to your mother," she repeated, "and tell her I said she has a wonderful son."

"I will."

Mrs. Robinson hurried away, looking more like the woman I'd seen with my old friend Gary. I got up and ambled out of the mall. I hope it works for you Gary, I thought. You've got a wonderful mother who will be there for you, just like mine.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

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