Making Mom Tap Out
A fun and sexy wrestling fundraiser goes a little too far.
"Still haven't figured anything out for the fundraiser?"
Alison sighed, annoyed by the question despite it being the root of why she'd called Brenna in the first place. "Nothing yet. I suppose I could just hop around in my Wonder Woman costume. Shake the goods a bit. Jeff hates the idea, but it's basically his fault I'm in this position anyway."
She was multitasking, talking to Brenna on speakerphone while cooking breakfast. Her husband, Jeff, had been called across the country for work, and it was just her and her son, Robbie, at the house.
"Didn't Jeff throw a fit the first year the fundraiser ran after you did that?" asked Brenna. "I seem to recall a heated and awkward argument outside in the parking lot."
"You only recall that because I told you about it. It's not like we made a scene. He just... doesn't like it if he's not in the picture, I guess. It's why we shifted to doing the mock wrestling bout for the fundraiser."
"It's not like he can blame you for a bit of flaunting on stage if he's going to be gone the entire month, anyway," said Brenna. "You certainly have the goods for it, Ali."
"Maybe ten years ago I did."
"You're so full of it."
Alison smiled and pulled her robe closed. She was aware that she was harder on her body than it deserved. The attention she'd gotten from men certainly hadn't waned in the way she'd feared it might as she'd closed in on her fortieth birthday. If anything, it'd surged.
"Anyway, it would probably mean picking another fight with Jeff," said Alison. "I just don't think it would be worth it."
The mom's community fundraiser had grown into a Riverbrook tradition over the past decade. The first year it'd been an act of desperation after a mishap with the production of their tease calendar had forced them to come up with a new driver of donations for the local kids' sports teams and food kitchens.
The idea for the calendar had been "Moms in Costume." The fundraiser which replaced it had quickly established itself as a titillating variety show, one that appealed to its targeted audience of dads and brothers and curious friends far more than anyone had expected.
Most of the acts in the live show were outright strip teases performed by familiar mothers donning the outfits of popular cinema characters. Alison had, since the second year, always done a mock wrestling match with her husband, Jeff. Wonder Woman vs The Joker, a time-honored DC classic.
"You're one of the crowd favorites, Ali," said Brenna. "Whatever it comes to, just promise me you won't sit it out."
"It might not be up to me." Alison scowled as she spoke the words, annoyed at how passive they made her sound.
It wasn't as though she didn't understand where her husband was coming from. It wasn't mindless jealousy, not exactly. They'd been together for just over twenty years. She'd been wild, once upon a time.
Before she and Jeff had begun dating, a few of his old friends had met her first. He'd been extremely protective of her around them and any other man he deemed as a threat ever since the two of them had gotten serious about one another. The attitude had stuck with him even though they'd moved halfway across the country in the time since.
"Why not use Robbie?" asked Brenna.
"Use Robbie... as in, my son, Robbie?"
"Yeah. Jeff wore that mask instead of makeup last year. Why not just teach him the routine you guys used last year and have him fill in?"
"Life isn't a sitcom, Bren," said Alison. "At least one of Jeff's coworkers knows he'll be out of town and will be there. I can't just pretend that my son is my husband for a night and roll around with him. Fuck. Phrasing. You know what I mean."
"Then don't pretend," said Brenna. "Robbie looked like he was in fantastic shape the last time I saw him. He's taller than his father, too. God, imagine him shirtless like Jeff was last year. I bet he'd be sporting lean muscle instead of a beer gut."
"He's a swimmer," admitted Alison, pride leaking into her tone. "He also works out in the off season."
"More importantly, there's no way your husband could get riled over his own son taking care of his mom in his absence. Seriously. I know it sounds silly, but I think it might be your best bet."
"I don't know if Robbie would be up for it, though," said Alison. "It's the summer. He's out with his friends or chasing girls almost every night. We'd have to rehearse like crazy to be ready in time for this weekend."
"He's already bought a ticket for the show, so it's not like you have to worry about him being elsewhere for the night in question."
"...He did?" Alison wasn't involved in the ticket sales and felt a moment of surprise. Robbie was eighteen, so it wasn't as though there was anything stopping him. It still felt a bit odd to know that he'd been so keen on seeing a tease show starring his mother and her friends as to buy an early ticket.
"I've also seen how he looks at me sometimes," said Brenna, in a teasing voice. "Being in the show would mean also being backstage, where all the women are doing quick changes and getting excited from performing."
"Bren!"
"I'm not suggesting anything," laughed Brenna. "I just think he'd be far more open to the idea than you're assuming."
"Far more open to what?" Robbie came downstairs and into the conversation.
Alison smiled affectionately at him even as she felt a little annoyed at his timing. It seemed to steal the decision from her hands to have Brenna on the phone as it was tossed out there. Not that Alison was against it, necessarily. It was just a little weird imagining wrestling her son, even in a staged sense.
"We're discussing the Moms in Costume show," said Alison. "Your father is out of town this year and Brenna got the idea into her head that you'd be the perfect replacement."
"Absolutely." Robbie smiled as he came up to her at the stove. He kissed her on the cheek and snagged one of the cooked pieces of bacon from where it was degreasing on a paper towel. She jokingly swatted his hand away as he went for a second.
"Absolutely, as in... you'll do it?" asked Alison.
"Yeah," said Robbie. "Is your friend Brenna going to be there?"
"Her friend Brenna is on the line right now," said Brenna, in a teasing voice. "Not only will I be there, but I came up with a new act. Maybe if we rehearse together ahead of time, I'll let you see it early."
It wasn't the first time that Brenna's teasing of Robbie had, in Alison's opinion, veered a bit over the line. She was surprised by Robbie's speechless reaction. He was the leader among his group of little friends, popular with the girls his age, but he clearly harbored an intense crush on Brenna. It irritated Alison as often as it amused her.
"I didn't realize you, uh... were on the line," said Robbie.
"So you don't want to see my new act?" pouted Brenna.
"No!" laughed Robbie. "I mean, yes. Definitely. Whenever. Just, uh... let me get your number real quick and I'll..."
Brenna burst out laughing. Alison smiled even as she sympathized with her embarrassed son.
"You're not getting Brenna's number, Robbie," she said, giving him a playful kick in the shin. "All communication between the two of you is to go through me, first."
"Quick, Robbie!" shouted Brenna. "Four five two, three seven--"
Alison hung her phone, smiling and once more as irritated as she was amused. She looked at Robbie, who was playing up his own mock annoyance.
It wasn't as though she couldn't understand why her friend enjoyed teasing and even outright flirting with her son on occasion. Robbie took after her grandfather, rather than either her or Jeff. He had a strong jaw, soulful brown eyes, and a broad chest.
Shirtless, as he was right now, he reminded Alison of a photo she'd found of Hermon, her father's father. It'd been an old black and white shot hidden in a photo album like a time capsule.
She hadn't realized it'd been her grandfather at first, and had spent far longer admiring the shirtless man than she probably should have until her mother had politely cleared her throat and reminded her they were related.
"Do you really want to do this show with me, Robbie?" she asked him, growing more serious. "You haven't seen it before. You might want the details before committing."
"I've heard enough, Mom," said Robbie. "I have older friends. Some of them went last year or the year before. I know it's a bit wild."
"You'll have to spend a lot of time rehearsing with me. It's all for fun but your father and I were doing some real wrestling. Well, real fake wrestling. Lots of lifts and transitions."
"You weigh like a hundred pounds," he said. "I bet I could toss you around like nothing."
She chuckled and then whooped as Robbie surprised her by wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her up without much effort.
"And I know for a fact that I could pin you," he whispered.
She was only wearing her robe, and it fell open from the sudden movement. One of Robbie's hands shifted, and for an instant, it was under the fabric. It was just the tips of his fingers, and they were only touching the bare flesh of her stomach, but Alison felt it up and down her body. It made her acutely aware of how little she was wearing, her bra and panties and nothing else.
"Wonder Woman always makes The Joker tap out," she said, half breathless.
"Maybe The Joker has some new moves up his sleeve this year." He set her down, gave her one last squeeze and kiss on the cheek, and slipped past her to steal a taste of home fries. "You want to start this afternoon?"
"If you're free," she said. "Thanks."
She couldn't wipe the smile off her face as she set about fixing him an actual plate.
***
Robbie headed straight upstairs after wolfing down breakfast. He stretched out on his bed and stared at his phone, unable to believe his own luck.
He'd been looking forward to eventually witnessing the annual Moms in Costume show for years, ever since some of his older friends had tortured him with the tantalizing details of what they'd seen.
They'd talked about Brenna and the other moms, including his own, in a way that had both infuriated and intrigued him. Not only would he be seeing the show this year, but he'd be seeing it from the best possible angle.
The thought of being backstage with Brenna, possibly seeing her change or sitting and whispering with her, got him hard as fuck. Brenna, the first woman he'd ever seen naked after accidentally walking in on her after a shower. Brenna, who'd almost given him her number, even if it had clearly just been to rile his mom up.
"Brenna," he muttered, stroking his cock.
Though there was the obvious caveat that he'd be paying a hefty price of admittance. Wrestling his mother was going to be a little awkward. Hell, he'd probably be getting off lucky if it was only a little awkward.
He'd seen a couple of the photos and videos some of his friends had secretly taken of the previous shows. Her Wonder Woman costume was significantly skimpier than the ones approved and sold by the DC Universe.
He was still hard from thinking about Brenna and the fact that it didn't go down as his thoughts shifted only seemed like a teaser for more confusion to come. He got up and went to his computer desk, figuring he'd get off to some porn. If it still seemed like a good idea after he'd come, he'd go through with it.
"Robbie?" His mom's soft voice sounded at the door in the same motion as it pushed slightly open.
"Jesus, Mom!" he yelled, surprised.
"Sorry," she said.
"You just... surprised me. I'm on the computer."
"Oh."
He winced. She'd caught him looking at porn before. She and Brenna had teased him a few times about his "raging hormones" afterward. It'd been unbelievably embarrassing, but they didn't even know the half of it.
Robbie wasn't a virgin anymore, but he got so horny all the time that he still felt like one. He spent most of his nights at home watching porn, especially as of late, given how long he'd been in a dry spell for.
"Are you going out tonight?" asked his mom.
"I don't know yet. Why?"
"We should really rehearse now then, if you're up for it."
"Right now?"
"Yeah." An edge of teasing entered her voice as bad as what Brenna was capable of. "Unless you've got something else to do."
"Whatever. Be right down."
He would be right down. His erection was another matter. He took a few deep breaths as he picked out a shirt. He didn't want to wear sweatpants, given how visible dick print was through them, but if they were going to be play wrestling, what choice did he have? A minute or two of focused breathing later and he at least managed to reach a state of plausible deniability down in his man parts.
The sound of sliding furniture greeted him as he headed down into the living room. His mom was bent forward against the couch, pushing it to the wall to clear them some space.
She'd changed into yoga pants, a tank top, and a sports bra. The dueling yellow and black shoulder straps of the latter two reminded him of a bumblebee's coloring. Her dark blonde hair was pulled back into a simple ponytail, the kind she only bothered with when she was heading to gym or out on a run, keen on working up a sweat.
She was still pushing the couch, butt jutting out and even flexing a bit as she put her muscle into the movement. Robbie averted his eyes, but the image was already there, burned into his retinas for at least the moment. He'd been well aware that his mom had above average sized breasts, but he'd somehow missed just how perfectly plump and toned she was around back.
"Just making sure we have room to move around." She pretended to dust her hands off as she stood up, smirking. "We don't want to be bumping into anything and everything. Still have to watch out for the TV, though."
"Is it really that involved?" asked Robbie. "What does Dad usually do, anyway? Throw you over one shoulder? Spin you around, or something?"
"What, you think we were just winging it?" she asked, with a laugh. "There's way more to it than that. Hence the need for us to rehearse."
She dropped into a wrestling crouch and her expression took on a challenging edge. Robbie smirked but felt an odd tingle of excitement as he mirrored her posture. He stole a glance at her chest. Her breasts were cupped by her shirt and bra, completely covered but still sizeable and attention grabbing.
"We'll both come out after whoever is on the microphone, usually Nate, announces us," said Alison. "Really play it up like a wrestling walk-in. Generally, they cheer for Wonder Woman and boo The Joker. Don't take it personally."
"Obviously. I'll be the nefarious Joker. The crowd's hatred will only fuel my desire to put the heroine through her paces."
"Spicy words," said his mom. "Already getting into the role. I love it."
"So what's next? Can I just start grabbing at you?"
He took a step forward, a little closer than he'd normally stand, letting her feel his presence. He was a lot bigger than her -- more than he sometimes realized. He saw his mom's smile curving at the edge like he'd done something cheeky.
"We start by facing off across from one another," she said. "Not too close. Sizing each other up. Slowly circling."
He fell into step across from her. They held eye contact for a few seconds, reaching that point where the moment had weight and it became hard to look away. Robbie could tell she didn't have her makeup on, but he'd never realized before just how naturally pretty she was, even without it.
A smile crept onto her face. "What?"
"Nothing," he said, with a laugh. "I'm just trying to picture you in costume."
"I wore it one year for Halloween. You've seen it before."
He and all of his friends. He still remembered the bruise he'd left on Kyle's shoulder after one of his jokes about his mom's supposed dick sucking lips had gotten a few too many laughs from the rest of their group.
"Let's keep going," she said. "The Joker usually starts first. You'll run at me like you're going to attack. Swing high and I'll duck low."
Robbie furrowed his brow. "Are you sure?"
"I'm the one with experience, in case you forgot. I know what I'm doing. Just be sure to telegraph the attack."
He took a few steps away from her. Their living room wasn't huge, even with the couch moved. He made a show of pulling back his arm before taking a few lumbering steps toward her. His attack wasn't fast, but it wasn't exactly slow, either.
The ease with which his mothed ducked underneath it was impressive, and she spun with a flourish as they passed by. She grinned at him as he came to a stop and turned around.
"We'll be in the old boxing gym, so we'll have the actual ring with the ropes to bounce off."
His mom hopped from foot to foot as she spoke and the word bounce struck with odd resonance. Her sports bra was doing its best, but her breasts were pretty big. Another one of his friend Kyle's annoying comments echoed through his head, this one related to oil and tit fucking.
"You look skeptical," she said, with a frown.
"More distractable than skeptical," he said. "Let's just keep going. I'll get into it."
"You sure?"
"Of course I'm sure, Mom. Why wouldn't I be?"
"I don't know..." She shrugged and let her head hang sideways, smiling affectionately. "Thanks for doing this, Robbie. You're the best and I love you endlessly, and so on, and so forth."
"I love you too, Mom," he said, with an exaggerated sigh. "Now can we get to the part where we start throwing suplexes or dropping elbows off the bar?"
"Soon enough. We'll do a few more passes, first."
She came at him this time, charging so fast that he reacted instead of merely playing his part. His grab caught her by surprise, arm wrapping around her midriff. Trying to spin out of the motion to let her continue by only resulted in both of them falling to the floor in a tangle of limbs.
Limbs... and various other interesting body parts.
Robbie's arm was still across his mom's chest, despite her now being on top of him and turned around. His forearm was pressing directly into her breast. It was so soft that he sighed involuntarily, as fascinated as he was intensely weirded out.
His free hand had grabbed her arm at some point, thumb and forefinger hooked around the back of her elbow. She tried to pull away and his fingers tightened automatically, some dominant reflex to hold her firm kicking in. He realized, if he wanted to, he could easily overpower her.
It was such a weird realization to trip into, literally and figuratively. His mother was smaller than him, but it was one of those facts that his brain still hadn't caught up with.
The idea of using his size advantage to overpower her or fling her around was so far from anything that'd ever crossed his mind that it made him feel like a different person to even consider it. As though he wouldn't be her son if he let it be true, nor she his mother.
She let out a laugh and wiggled around in a way that created a whole range of new problems. Her body was so soft. She seemed to have way too much exposed skin, even though it was just her bare arms and shoulders. The moment suddenly felt weird to Robbie beyond all description.
"Good!" said his mother. "You've already picked up on one essential fact. If we do get tangled or things go off script, don't just let me get away with it."
"...What?"
"You're the Joker, remember? You have to try your best to teach me a lesson. Try to keep hold of me, pin me, make me tap out. Eventually, you do have to let go so we can get back to the scripted stuff, but it's fine for us to roll around a bit."
She wiggled some more as though to emphasize her point. Her butt dragged across his crotch for an accidental instant. They both froze, and then tried to quickly move again as though realizing in unison that acknowledging it would only make it more awkward.
It was simply too weird. He suspected his mom would come to the same conclusion after a bit more practice. An idea came to Robbie that he found instantly appealing. If his mother became too weirded out or uncomfortable to go through with the faux wrestling match, would she perhaps ask one of her friends to fill in for her? Maybe even Brenna?
His mind fluttered with the image of Brenna's naked body glistening, hot water beading of the tips of her tiny nipples, steam billowing around the edges of the humid bathroom. Robbie felt himself instantly getting hard, which was a problem, with his mom still on top of him.
Or was it? If he committed to his new plan, it was something he could use to his advantage.
***
Alison softly grunted as she squirmed for purchase. One of Robbie's arms was still tight around her chest. If it had been Jeff, she would have felt justified in digging her nails in or even giving his bicep a small bite. It wasn't as though he didn't get enough of those whenever she was in the mood for rough sex.
She silently chastised herself for the thought even as she continued to wriggle away. Robbie was a saint, but he was also a young man. Every time her butt or thigh brushed across his crotch it was like it was being seared with an imprint of his man parts.
It was weird, but she would never admit it to him, never let it show. He'd stepped up to take his dad's place in her time of need. The last thing she wanted to do was show any kind of reaction to his effect on her or vice versa. And there was... an effect. It didn't feel as though he was completely soft down there.
Another thought which she immediately wished her brain would take back. Something was undeniably poking into her, not an outright hard-on, but well on its way to being rigid. Alison scowled and put more effort into escaping, furious with her own dirty thoughts and the way her attention seemed drawn to her son's crotch.
It was Jeff's fault, both for forcing Robbie into this position and for depriving her of her usual release. They were two decades into their marriage, but even stale sex was better than no sex. It'd been over a month, and would probably be a few weeks more before she'd even get a chance at letting a man make her come. Jeff usually managed to. Usually. Sometimes.
"Good," said Allison, panting a little "You're starting to get into it."
"Just taking your advice, Mom," said Robbie. "When are you going to start trying to escape?"
He added that teasing edge to his question that reminded Allison of being in high school and being teased by the quarterback about the lack of flips and lifts in her cheer routine. She twisted sideways, managing to get to one knee.
Robbie immediately snapped forward, seizing her hips and yanking back as he rushed forward after her. For an instant, she was down on all fours with him positioned over and behind. His crotch tapped into her ass, and she felt his cock so vividly against her thighs and pussy that it made her gasp and go still.
Robbie also froze, which at least afforded her time to get to her feet. She was quick when it came to mastering herself and had an easy smile back on her face. A few strands of hair had come loose from her ponytail, and she knew she must have looked like a sweaty mess. Robby was still waiting, crouched low, as though expecting her to get mad at him.
"Not bad," she said. "We'll do it just like that if either of us goes down early on."
Robbie nodded slowly. "What happens if I pin you?"
"You won't."
He snorted and flashed a smile. "But what happens if I--"
"Trust me, you won't," she emphasized. "I'm not that easy, Robbie. I've still got some tricks up my sleeve."
"When you use that taunting tone it just makes me want to see if I can, you know."
"So see if you can," she said. "Just don't start crying when I turn the tables on you."
He fell back into his ready stance. It took Allison a few more breaths to refocus herself enough to explain what needed to happen next.
"Alright," she said. "We do five passes in total. Then we go into a clench, and you throw me into the ropes. Then five more passes, with me taking a small moment to heat up the crowd. After that, I'm going to jump onto you and we'll do what's called the 'falling tower,' which we're going to have to practice."
"The falling tower?"
"We might have to bring some cushions or a mattress down here to practice it," said Allison. "Let's try the clench for now."
She stepped forward and started walking Robbie through the arm placement. He was bigger than his father to a degree that made it feel a little silly. He could have clearly overpowered her if he'd wanted to from the simple arm grapple, each of their hands resting on each other's shoulders.
"What happens if I do this?" asked Robbie.
It was as though he'd read her mind. He yanked her toward him, wrapped his arms around her, and scooped her up into the air. Once more, she was reminded of the high school quarterback, that one time he'd been heading to the locker room with his buddies and pretended to scoop her up and carry off with him for their nefarious purposes. She still had dreams about that moment even though she couldn't remember the jock's name.
"Robbie!" she laughed. "Hold on a second!"
"Isn't this what I'm supposed to be doing? Didn't you say you had tricks to handle me, Mom?"
She gasped in surprise as he suddenly swept her down hard. She landed on the couch with an easy bounce. Robbie had gripped her thighs to toss her into the swing and kept his hands there for a few seconds as she came to rest. Alison felt like a terrible mother as she recalled various men over the course of her life using a similar hand placement to spread her legs before fucking her.
"Tapping out already, Mom?"
"You are such a brat, and I will never stop loving you for it," she said.
He helped her back to her feet and managed to keep his focus as they returned to the clench. There was nothing complicated about it other than the play acting they used to sell their efforts.
"Perfect," she said. "Now we pass by each other a few more times. Then I'll do my little shake for the crowd."
"Your little what?"
She felt her cheeks heat up. "It's part of the act. Your father always hated it. I push my butt out and pretend be, um... Dancing a little."
"Cool." He stepped back and motioned for her to continue.
"We don't have to rehearse that," she said. "I'll do it for the actual show."
"I won't be able to practice my reaction if I don't see it ahead of time," said Robbie. "Come on, Mom."
"I... suppose it might help you get into character."
She shrugged and, blushing even harder, pushed her butt out and started flexing from side to side. She wasn't facing Robbie as she started shaking it but still swore she could feel his eyes locked onto her ass. A sudden, not overly painful sting bit into her right buttock. She realized, in a state of complete shock, that her son had just slapped her ass.
The annoyance she felt was twofold. First and foremost, it was totally inappropriate and infuriating to think that Robbie might act in such a way with one of the girls he was dating. Secondly... it kept bringing back memories of that damned asshole of a quarterback!
"Just getting into character, Mom," said Robbie. "If it's too weird for you, I get it. Maybe we could figure something else out."
"There's weird and there's sexual harassment, young man!"
"You just said that this was to help me get into character," he pointed out. "Jesus. Sorry. I won't do it again."
"I mean... as long as I know ahead of time."
She shrugged. Why the hell had she just said that? She couldn't fathom why she wasn't putting her foot down harder.
A horrible but painfully true voice from somewhere deep inside pointed out that she'd only reacted to the slap in the way that she had out of her mothering instinct. The part of her that was a woman, girl, a nerdy cheerleader getting catcalled by the football team... enjoyed it way too much.
"...Are you sure?" he asked.
"Sure. It's just for the role." She glanced away. "If you're comfortable with it, go for it."
He did it again, slapping her left buttock this time. Allison gasped and had to brace herself against the couch, ass still jutting outward, knees suddenly weak. Robbie laughed in that manly, almost evil way.
"Hey, you even gave me permission for that one," he pointed out. "Looks like I've already discovered Wonder Woman's weak spots."
"For your information, Wonder Woman doesn't have any weak spots."
The nape of her neck. Her butt, as Robbie had just discovered. Various points along the inside of her thigh. Her navel. Nipples. The backs of her hands, for some bizarre reason. She was nothing but weak spots, but her son was the last person who needed to know that.
***
They ended the rehearsal there for the day. Robbie sat down at his computer and drummed his fingers on his desk. He wasn't sure if his plan had backfired or if he needed to push things further.
He'd been sure that slapping his mom's butt would instantly have her changing her mind about wrestling him. He'd been so sure, in fact, that he'd almost thought he'd made a mistake when he'd first done it. She'd made this noise, this little gasp that'd seemed drawn out of her against her will. He'd been expecting her to explode at him... but she hadn't.
As hard as he'd tried, he couldn't get her reaction out of his head. It was hard to place what was off about it. There was this girl at school, Rebecca, though everyone called her Beck. She'd been all but passed around by the swim team, Robbie included. He'd known his friends had slept with her already, but still taken his shot one day after school and been rewarded with a nice little quickie in an empty classroom.
The stuff she'd been into had made his eyebrows shoot up. It'd left him wondering afterward what'd come first to make her so desperate to have her hair pulled, wrists pinned, and yes, her ass slapped. Had she been a slut first and sought out the swim team to scratch an itch? Or had she simply been seduced in sequence and taught to be a proper little fuck toy through repetition?
Which brought him back to that familiar little noise his mom had made and the fact that he needed to scrub it from his mind as soon as humanly possible. He needed to drain his balls. Maybe Beck could help with that? He shot her a quick text, but her reply was quick and disappointing. She was out of town with her family.
There were other girls he knew he could probably invite over, but the idea suddenly felt hollow and less than what he needed. He thought of Brenna and tried to imagine what noises she would make in a wrestling match. How her thighs would feel against him. All that skin to skin contact, wiggling and writhing and groping for purchase.
He did eventually go out for the night, spending some time at the movies with his friends and getting back late. His mother was already in bed, but she'd left dinner out for him. He ate and went to sleep.
The next morning greeted him in much the same frustrating way. He was horny, but for some reason, couldn't make himself come through beating off. It wasn't for a lack of trying, either. He pumped his cock as he lay in bed, sunbeams poking in through the blinds, his sheet flapping up and down with hilarious motions from his efforts.
"I thought I'd wash your sheets, and then we could use your mattress for your rehearsal while they're..." His mother trailed off as she stood in her doorway, having opened said door without knocking.
Robbie tried to cover his erect cock with a sheet. The fact that it was already covered with a sheet made the motion doubly ridiculous, only drawing even more attention to his arousal. A tiny spot of pre-cum stood out clearly on the pale fabric of his bed coverings.
"Mom!" he said, hating how much he sounded like the irritated teenager he was.
"Sorry!" She laughed and turned her gaze sideways, though not completely away. "Should I come back in a few minutes?"
"Jesus, Mom!" he shouted. "Why would you say that?"
"I'm just teasing you, sweetie," she said. "You're a boy. I know how boys are. It's not like I hadn't guessed that you... well, you know."
She looked at him again. He'd sat up, bare chest visible above the sheet line, tented erection visible below it. Another odd moment hung in the air, but there was already a pile of those after yesterday.
"Breakfast will be ready soon," she said, clearing her throat. "Come whenever you're ready. We can talk about rehearsing after."
"Whatever."
He immediately started getting dressed, annoyed beyond words. The last thing he wanted was his mother thinking that he'd actually keep going after getting caught. The idea of sitting down across from her after blowing a load with that knowledge shared between them made him feel... strange.
He shook his head, quickly pulling on sweatpants. He needed to redouble his efforts. There was no way he could keep rehearsing the wrestling with her now. Though, weird as it was to have her walk in on him beating off, it might serve his end goal.
She'd probably find close contact with him even harder to endure with the image of those tented sheets now primed in her mind. All Robbie needed to do was find one good moment to push and take things a little too far. When she freaked out, he'd bring up having Brenna tag in for her and put himself in position for the ultimate conquest.
Even if he didn't manage to do anything with Brenna, wrestling her would be exciting in its own right. Hell, it was exciting enough just wrestling his mom. That moment when she'd been on her knees, and he'd pushed against her from behind had been hot in its own bizarre way. He felt his cock twitch and had to reposition it in his sweatpants to keep it from looking ridiculous.
His mom was looking for something in one of the cupboards as he came down, wearing her usual morning robe. A thought struck him as he saw the way her butt moved from side to side as she rifled through the cupboard's contents.
He didn't have to limit his efforts in weirding her out to their rehearsals. The important thing was simply to make her feel uncomfortable with wrestling him to the point where she'd be open to Brenna filling in. Robbie walked as quietly as he could, coming right up behind her, and then stepped forward.
"Here." He pressed into her, letting their bodies come into sudden contact. "One of the perks of being tall."
He reached one hand into the cupboard to help her find what she was looking for. His other hand settled onto her hip as he prodded his crotch into her ass. The first thing he hadn't counted on was his cock, his erection, immediately slipping forward to jut into the softness of her backside. The second was for her to make that noise again.
"Oh!" Her body seemed to sag against him, straighten, and then rock back with a small motion. "Mmm. You don't have to... ah, sweetie, that's... alright."
"Yeah?" He was almost as stunned as he could tell she was as he humped forward, shameless and horny. "You sure?"
"I mean... you can if you want to." She rose up on her toes before dropping, sliding her robe covered butt against his hard-on. "The pancakes. Gonna... make up some batter."
"Mmm, I love pancakes." What the fuck was he doing? Robbie rubbed her hip, knocking his other hand around in the cupboard only for pretense. He rocked into his mom, suddenly unable to think about anything other than how incredible it felt, how wonderful she smelled. She'd taken a shower that morning. Lavender scented shampoo and humidity scented off her hair.
"I know you do, sweetie." Alison cleared her throat. She bopped her butt back against him, gaining a few inches, and then spun around with a nervous laugh. "Which is why you need to give me room to work!"
He chuckled, feeling suddenly awkward. "Fair enough."
"You should have taken my advice," she added.
"...What?"
"Your sheets. Go throw them in the washer."
His heart was pounding so fucking fast. Another plan that felt like it had completely backfired on him. "I will after breakfast."
"You'll forget. Go do it now."
"Jesus, Mom," he groaned. "Whatever."
He headed back upstairs and started stripping down his bed. Had she figured him out? She'd always had a stubborn parenting style. If she thought that he was trying to get out of what he'd agreed to by weirding her out, which in a sense he was, would she double down in the face of it?
She might. But two could play at that game.
***
Alison hadn't started making the pancakes. She'd never found the batter, never been looking for it in the first place. She forced out another breath, steadying herself against the counter as though about to take a step across polished ice.
She could still feel a slight indent in the back of her cloth robe from where Robbie's morning wood had introduced itself to her butt. It was near impossible to put a name to the emotion she currently felt. Frustration, anger, confusion, excitement... all of it, all at once, with an extra touch of something truly wicked.
What had he been thinking?
It was hard enough to get inside her teenage son's head on a normal day. She tried to simply lay out the facts and figure him out. She'd walked in on him that morning. Was this revenge on his part? It seemed possible, especially in light of the teasing way he'd slapped her ass at the end of their rehearsal. The nameless emotion plaguing her suddenly flared up again like a breath on ashy coals.
No, it had to have been an accident. That made at least as much sense. She'd interrupted him. He hadn't been able to finish and then he'd just... bumped into her. Did he use tissues? She never saw any in his room. A towel? Socks? Alison bit her lip and forced herself to snap out of it.
She finished making breakfast and set a plate for Robbie. It was Thursday, and she still had some clients scheduled for physical training at the gym. Heading upstairs, she changed into her workout clothes and put on some light makeup.
"Robbie?" she called, as she passed by her door. "I have to get to the gym. I'll be back later tonight."
She almost gasped as the door swung open. Robbie grinned and leaned against the doorway.
"See you tonight," he said. "For rehearsal."
Alison couldn't help but smile back at him. "Definitely. I'll grab takeout so I won't even have to make dinner. You're sure you want to keep going with it?"
"We just got started," he said. "I thought you might be the one to find it, well... you know?"
"Too weird?" She found it funny how saying it out loud made it seem so much less weird, somehow.
"Yeah. We could always figure something else out if you were feeling that way. Swap things around."
"Is that what you want, Robbie?" She shrugged. "I had fun, to be honest.
Once more, saying the truth loud had a certain effect. The word fun seemed to roll off her lips, fun with a capital F.
"So did I," he said, matching her shrug. "Well, I guess I'll see you tonight."
"I might be a little sweaty when I get home."
"We both will be anyway by the time we're finished." He turned his head a bit on the diagonal, eyes scanning over her outfit. It wasn't anything too revealing, but she knew she looked good. She'd certainly never lacked for male clients for fitness training.
"Have a good day, sweetie." She paused as she turned around, trying to remember something she was sure she'd forgotten.
Robbie shifted forward and she tensed at the look she saw on his face. For an instant, she thought he might slap her ass again. No, he was leaning in for a quick hug, but even just expecting it for a fraction of a second nearly had the same effect as if he'd done it.
"See you tonight, Mom," he whispered.
***
Robbie had almost gone for it. He'd stepped forward and even pulled his hand back. The urge had been so sudden and compelling to play around a little bit. Try to get the reaction he'd been aiming for with her down in the kitchen against the counter.
But she'd seen him and gotten this look on her face, and he'd frozen up. He felt like a wuss -- honestly, it'd been the perfect chance and he'd missed it. He stopped and paced over to his desk, frowning he calmed down enough to come back to his senses.
No, he'd definitely made the right choice. He'd been out of his fucking mind for considering it. They weren't in the middle of their rehearsal, and it wasn't something he could have played off as an accident. There were lines that still shouldn't be crossed out of context.
Above all else, he felt on odd contrast of being suddenly glad that he hadn't done it, while also really, really wanting to do it again. He would later that day. They'd rehearse, and if simply did it again when she did her little twerking thing, it would forever be cemented in their routine.
He forced himself to think of Brenna as he flopped onto his bed and started stroking himself off. Brenna, except in his mom's place. It would still be his mom at least for that night's rehearsal. But that wasn't so bad. In fact, he was pretty excited for their upcoming rehearsal. His mom had seemed similarly eager, and that somehow fed into his own anticipation.
He remembered how he'd pulled her down, the way for an instant he'd been all but poised to slam into her from behind. He wanted to actually pin her tonight. Not in an overly mean or forceful way. Just to pin her, hold her down, let it go on for a few seconds with him on top of her and in control. How long would she let it go on for? Maybe a little too long?
He realized he was about to come and desperately tried to both stop and think someone else at the same time. It only had the effect of ruining his orgasm. He spent most of the afternoon with the worst of both worlds, still horny and feeling like he constantly needed to pee.
It was a horniness that seemed to strengthen, rather than mellow out, despite him apparently getting off. Like a boxer whose own intensity flared after taking a hit, Robbie was in a state of primal need by the time his mother got home. He was playing video games in the living room and his random teammates were garbage, which also didn't help.
"Hey!" His mom sounded enthused as she came inside and set a bag of Chinese food down on the coffee table. "Finish up. Time for dinner and wrestling."
"Hold on a second," he said. "Let me just... end this game."
His attention to the TV and his current in-game objective rapidly waned as his mom leaned forward to start setting out boxes of fried rice, egg rolls, and lo mein. She pushed out at an angle, oblivious to how tight her pants were or how perfectly her butt slid into his field of view. She suddenly turned, locking eyes with him and seeming to catch him red handed.
"I have to change out of these," she said, pulling the fabric. "I spilled a bit of an energy drink on them and the spot has been itchy ever since."
"You do you," said Robbie. "I'll wait down here. Should we eat first?"
"Let's eat as we go. I think our stomachs will adapt better to eating and wrestling together if we go slow at both."
He moved the couch and the coffee table while she was upstairs. He was still in his lounge clothes, a t-shirt and sweatpants. He had a moment of panic as he realized he'd taken his boxers off after masturbating and never put them back on, but it shifted into opportunity. He was still trying to get her unsettled about her part in wrestling him. Leaving them off seemed like the way to go.
His mom was humming as she came downstairs. She'd changed out of her leggings and into a tiny pair of white and blue workout shorts, the kind that stretched and clung and covered just enough to technically be appropriate for daylight hours.
It was as though she'd had the exact same idea that he had, leaning into her own clothing choices to match his current mindset. Robbie said nothing about his mom's shorts, and she made no comment about his sweatpants and how obvious his junk was outlined beneath the thin fabric.
"Well," she said, pursing her lips. "Looks like we're all set then."
"Looks like it." Robbie pulled out an eggroll and started munching on it. "Should we review what we worked on yesterday."
"There's going to be lots of review for the next few days," she pointed out. "We have to run it until we're not just comfortable but having fun. Doing it over and over again. Think you can handle it?"
"That's my question for you, Mom," said Robbie.
"I'll have you know that I was going easy on you yesterday." She smirked and fell into her wrestling stance. "You might find that I'm more than you can handle when I actually try."
"We'll see." Robbie crammed the rest of his eggroll into his mouth and squared off across from her.
His mom rushed forward without preamble. Robbie attacked high, as they'd practiced, and almost pulled the blow back at the last second fearing that there'd been a miscommunication. But no, she was just waiting until the most dramatic moment to dodge, selling the act even without an audience present to appreciate her effort.
"Keep going," she said. "You're not tired already, are you?"
Robbie chuckled and shook his head. "Oh, far from it."
The next three passes went much the same way, Robbie alternating from high to low and his mom dodging with ease each time. He felt comfortable enough to put more energy and character into the last pass, waiting until the last second just like she did before launching into the movement.
Surprisingly, he caught hold of her. His mom whooped in surprise and immediately started wriggling. He began to let go of her, but she shook her head.
"If you do catch me off script, don't just let me go," she said. "Sell it for the crowd. Make me work for it."
"I can do that." He had his arm around her abdomen and pulled her in closer. Her words echoed in his head in a different tenor.
Make me work for it.
His mom began trying to get away. He brought his other arm around, hugging her to him as she squirmed. It was bizarrely hot, and he felt his hard on sprouting back to life. His earlier decision to not wear underwear seemed a tad dangerous as he tried to think of what, if anything, he could do to hide his arousal.
His mom let out a giggle and tried knock back against him to buy herself some space. For an instant, his cock was brushing between her thighs. Robbie didn't think he needed to lean into his plan to actively try to weird her out.
The simple pretense of trying to subdue a giggling, scantily clad woman as she wiggled and twisted against him was more than enough motivation. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight to him. It pressed his cock so tightly into her that there was no way she didn't feel it. She laughed and leaned back, her butt tensing against his cock.
"What about this?" She kissed his bicep, shocking him for a critical instant. Sliding downward, his mother slipped out of his grip, her breasts grazing his arm on the way down.
Robbie grabbed for her again, but it wasn't as though he would have held onto her forever during the actual bout. As she turned to face him again, he turned to face reality... starting with the most obvious erection he'd ever gotten in front of another human being.
"Um..." His mom looked at one of the family photos hanging in the corner of the room as though it were suddenly of the utmost interest. "We can take a break if you want."
Robbie winced and felt his face go lava hot. "I don't, I just, ah..."
"It's alright," she said, still not looking. "No biggie. I mean, not that you're, um..."
"I know."
"Let's eat some food." She clapped her hands together and took the long way around the couch to the Chinese food cartons, as though afraid Robbie might snap back into her like a magnet at close distance.
***
Alison took small bites of food and did her best to pretend as though it held her attention. She couldn't stop glancing at Robbie, at the obvious bulge in his sweatpants. She was confused, to say the least, at what was going through his mind.
It didn't seem likely that he was still trying to get even for her walking in on him that morning. Moreover, she was giving him every opportunity to pull back from the wrestling if it was weirding him out. He seemed sometimes like he might want to, but the second they got moving it was as though she had his full attention and commitment.
His erection might as well have been a third person in the room. Another man with that wildness and dominance factor, or more than one, even. It felt like she'd accidentally walked in on the jocks in the locker room and wasn't going to be able to leave without giving them a taste.
The thought made her sickeningly wet as she acknowledged that it was just her and Robbie. There was no other instigator she could offload her emotions and responsibility onto. Just her and her son.
"You ready, Mom?" asked Robbie.
She nodded, setting her fork down. "If you are, sure."
She couldn't stop herself from glancing at his crotch. He wasn't quite as hard as he was before, but she could still see a bulge there. Her heart was beating way too fast and she forced herself to breathe.
"So, we just finished the passes," she said. "After that, we'll go into what I like to call the falling tower. I think we might need your mattress or at least some couch cushions for this."
She bent forward to see if they could make do with just the ones from the couch. She felt a sting as Robbie's hand connected with her butt from out of nowhere. A shock of surprise and knee quivering arousal froze her like a rabbit in a spotlight.
"You forgot to do your butt shake," said Robbie.
"Oh." She started shaking her butt without thinking. "Right."
He slapped her other buttock and Alison nearly melted forward onto the couch. He hadn't done it hard, but good lord, it'd hit her hard on some deep, fundamental level. She kept shaking her butt and the dirtiest part of her mind hoped he'd do one more.
Control. She needed to control herself. She took a breath.
"Perfect," she managed to say. "I... think the crowd will really like that."
"You said something about a falling tower?" asked Robbie.
She nodded. "I think we'll need something bigger after all."
"I'll go get my mattress, then."
He smiled at her. They held eye contact for an odd amount of time as he started walking toward the stairs. Alison hurried to the downstairs bathroom as soon as he was out of view. She might not have time to give herself some sensual relief, but she at least wanted to splash some cold water on her face.
She realized, seeing herself in the bathroom's full-length mirror, that she was wearing an outfit she never would have risked at the gym. She'd told herself that it was a way of prepping Robbie for her Wonder Woman costume, which was even more sexy and scant. It tasted like an excuse now. She hated to admit it, but it excited her to see the effect she had on him.
Jeff told her she was beautiful all the time, but there was such a huge difference between saying the words and staring at her with that dark, manly hunger. Robbie was eighteen, though. He practically looked at clothing store mannequins like that, hormones raging as they were.
Still...
She came back out just as Robbie was tipping his mattress down onto the center of the living room floor. He did a forward flip onto it, landing and bouncing on his back, and made as though to reach for her.
"Let's wrestle," he said, grinning.
"We'll get down and dirty in just a minute." She quirked her mouth at her own phrasing. Why had she said it like that?
"I can't wait," replied Robbie.
She walked around to the other side of the mattress as Robbie came back to standing.
"For the falling tower, you're going to charge at me and lift me into the air," she explained. "This will probably be the first time you really get ahold of me unless something unexpected happens in the first few passes."
"It's right after the butt shake?" asked Robbie.
"Yeah." Alison nodded, her mind going to those painfully pleasurable slaps that would go along with it.
"So you'll be facing... this way?" Robbie touched her hips and turned her around.
"Uh-huh." Alison took his hands and drew them upward. "You'll grab me like this."
She set them both down on her stomach. Robbie flexed his fingers, and she sucked in an involuntary breath. He pulled in closer, letting her body press against his. He was definitely still somewhat aroused from what she felt prodding into the small of her back.
"Then you'll wrap your arms tight and lift me up," she explained. "I'll try to make it easy for you to--"
She gasped as he pulled her into the air with far more strength and ease than her husband had ever managed. Laughing nervously, she patted his arm.
"Good, good," she said. "Since it's the first time the Joker gets his hands on Wonder Woman, your father usually, well... He plays it up a bit. So do I. I'll try to escape and you have a little bit of fun for a few seconds."
"A little bit of fun," echoed Robbie. She realized that he wasn't asking what she meant by that. He was simply stating her own words for the record.
Robbie's left hand shifted upward, cupping her breast so brazenly that Alison felt her eyes widen into saucers. She'd just given him permission, which he'd confirmed, and somehow it still rendered her speechless.
He didn't stop there, either. He shifted her around, copping a feel of her upper thigh and almost what lay beyond it. Jeff usually just played at pulling at her costume during this part, but now that Robbie had crossed the line it felt like it was on her to set him straight.
She opened her mouth to do just that, but one of Robbie's fingers brushed her nipple and the ability to speak fled her once more. No, she could still speak. She was his mother, for gods' sake. It was just... saying it would make it real.
"Robbie," she did manage, after a few seconds of hot molestation.
"Yeah Mom?" He sank his fingers into one of her breasts. "Sorry. Yes, oh mighty Wonder Woman?"
She chuckled, despite herself. The sound of it bit off into a moan as Robbie slid the fingers of one hand into the waistband of her shorts. He didn't go deep -- even he seemed to know that it would have been too much. He just explored that little line of her waist where the drawcord of her shorts held them against her hips, the little line that separated order from chaos.
"Alright, mister!" she said. "Next part. From here, I, um... climb up higher."
"Go for it," he said. He had that tone of his that made him sound like a cocky little punk.
Alison shifted, wriggling legs that were only then regaining their strength. Robbie helped her by taking a handful of one of her buttocks, squeezing as much as helping her swing around. He took a balancing step back and to one side as she came up onto his shoulders.
Their new positioning was like the kind of shoulder ride an older brother might give his little sister, except in reverse. Alison's crotch was all but pressed into Robbie's face. It'd never seen like a big deal when it had been Jeff in that position. Stable, predictable Jeff, who practically wore the same socks on the same days each week.
"Mmm." Robbie made a show of taking a deep breath as though smelling flowers and not the moisture underneath the thin fabric of her gym shorts. "How long do we stay like this?"
"Try... not to talk," said Alison. Her face went hot as she recognized how each syllable had fluttered against her crotch, horribly pleasant tickles that ran right through her. "This will take a bit of trust. The mattress is behind you. Just fall backwards but hold on to my legs as high up as you can."
"Seriously?" Robbie's lips moved against her pussy as he spoke, and the hum of the word seemed to vibrate at a sexual frequency through her entire body.
"Yes, seriously!" she snapped. She leaned forward, one hand running through his hair as she shifted to stay balanced.
"Just fall backwards?" he asked, lips all but kissing her clit through her shorts and panties.
"Yes, just fall backwards!" she hissed.
"...Right now?"
"Robbie!"
He laughed, which was hardly any better, and then a tighter grip on her thighs as he committed to the fall. Alison was briefly uncertain as they picked up speed on the way down, but she set her feet and helped hold Robbie's shoulders. They landed safely enough on the mattress to make her confident they could pull it off in the ring.
"Good," she said, with a laugh. "Good. And now..."
"I try to pin you," said Robbie, in a low voice.
***
He'd been waiting for this. Robbie had considered doing something to tease his mom or weird her out while he'd literally had her crotch in his face, but all the good options were a little too bad. Sticking his tongue out or pulling her shorts down might have freaked her out to the point of completely destroying their relationship.
But now, down and dirty, they were back to wrestling as usual. Everything was fair game and more or less excusable as a slip of the hand or accidental contact of their bodies. Dimly, Robbie recognized that he wanted this. He wanted to wrestle her. Sure, it would be an intriguing turn of events if Brenna did swap in for her, but in the meantime, Mom would do just fine.
Better than fine. He flipped her underneath her and watched her tits bounce and strain against her workout bra.
"You're about to learn how a real hero does business, Joker!" She lifted one fit to playfully press into his chest as she spoke, flushed with excitement. "Prepare to get your butt kicked!"
"Oh, Wonder Woman," he shouted back. "You're delusional. I hope aren't expecting to get off easy."
"I won't be the one getting off... um, easy," she replied, blushing and smiling even more.
He fell upon her, cock hardening at record speed, not that it'd been all that soft before. They were still on his bare mattress and the way the springs bounced her as she squealed and tried to roll away added a suggestive undertone to every movement.
She almost got away right at the start. Robbie caught her ankle and started reeling her back in. He fell over her, trying to score an early pin. Trying, but not trying that hard. She managed to wriggle away.
Her legs kicked open as Robbie fell forward onto her again, and then wrapped around his waist. He rocked forward and felt his cock jam into the nook between her legs. For a split second, the tip caught right against the folds of her pussy through her shorts. His mom's eyes bulged open, and the intensely sexual nature of the contact was only thwarted by a couple of thin layers of clothing.
He collapsed onto her with a cackling joker laugh. They bounced on the mattress, the squeak underneath them all too reminiscent of the bed groans of a more lurid pastime. His mother let out a growl and tried to twist him to either side with her leg hold. The motion made her crotch grind against his erection, cloth hissing as it rubbed together.
His mother's face was mesmerizing. She seemed to flash in and out of character, alternating between glaring at him fiercely and biting her lip sensually. Robbie grabbed one of her wrists and pulled it up, but she was quick to strip it free. Her hips bucked again and they both groaned as the grinding contact flirted on the cusp of turning sexual.
"You can't pin me, Joker," she said, in a breathless voice. "You'll be here all night trying."
"If it takes me all night, so be it!" He bore down on her again, reaching one hand around to brazenly squeeze her ass. "I'm more than you can handle."
"Big words, supervillain, but can you back them up?" A smile stole onto her face as she tried to glare him.
"You'll be begging for mercy." He tried for her wrist again and this time managed to get a firm hold of it. "I'm not stopping until you tap out."
"I'm not tapping out, so you'll be at it a while."
"I'm fine with that."
"Well... so am I." His mom twisted, her body rubbing against his, hot and soft.
There was a sudden shift as she released her leg hold and tried to scamper free. Robbie grabbed her around the waist and fell backward. She landed on top of him, her butt sliding along the entire length of his stiff shaft as the mattress bounced them around like porn stars in their first shoot.
Her breathing was like an aphrodisiac on his ears. Her smell, a mixture of feminine sweat musk and flowery deodorant, was intoxicating. He laughed in her ear as he ran his hands up her body. She seemed to tense rather than struggle as his fingers groped her thigh and the palm of his other hand groped her breast.
He expected her to finally snap and call him out. Wrestling was too thin of a pretense to allow him to openly molest her. He wasn't even sure what his goal was anymore. Did he still want her to back out in favor of Brenna? If so, why did the idea of her refusing to tap out make his cock so goddamn hard?
His mother slowly tightened her thighs, pinching his cock between him. He was the one to lose his focus this time, tensing and groaning at the insane pleasure. His mom grabbed one of his arms and made a show of pulling on it as she started rocking her hips.
It was dry fucking, plain and simple. The angle of his cock against her pussy was within that dangerous range where, sans clothes, it would have simply slipped in as though attracted by a higher force.
Robbie grabbed his mom's tits, crossing his arms over so the hold was still tight enough to arguably serve a purpose. He felt her squeeze her thighs tighter in response. He bounced her around, with the help of the mattress. There was a spot of sweat underneath where she'd been laying before. Was that sweat?
"Oh fuck!" she whispered.
He almost called her out for breaking character, but his words came out differently than expected. "Yeah? You like that, super slut?"
"Oh fuck! Robbie!"
She started rocking her hips faster and faster, thighs still tight around his member. Robbie felt like he was flying. He kissed her neck and squeezed her to him. The edge of his vision pounded, and the pleasure seemed to build and coalesce not just in his crotch but his stomach and legs and chest.
It was too much. Oh god.
He tried to roll her off him as he realized that he was in the danger zone. His body didn't cooperate anymore than his mouth had a second earlier. He flipped his mom underneath him and started humping her ass. The sensation of her plump cushion against his crotch and cock was what set him off.
He pounded forward into her, grunting as he came in his sweatpants. The sticky warmth of his seed matting against his pubic hair was like having a bucket of ice water dumped on him in a hot shower. Insane, mind melting pleasure morphed into the deepest horror and shame he'd ever experienced in his entire life.
"Mom..." he muttered.
"Robbie?" She rolled over, face flushed and embarrassed, breathing heavy. Her eyes darted down to the horribly obvious cum stain showing on his grey trousers.
He looked away before letting himself see her reaction. She slowly rose to her feet and hurried to the stairs. He wasn't far behind her. He felt like a little boy running after being caught with a stolen dessert as he slammed his door shut and collapsed at his desk.
The plan had been to weird her out. He was pretty sure he'd accomplished it a little too well.
***
Alison poured herself another glass of wine. She'd tiptoed back downstairs after catching her breath. The remnants of the Chinese food sat on the kitchen table in front of her, but she had only whispers of an appetite. Robbie still hadn't come downstairs since they'd had their little wrestling accident.
And it'd been an accident on both sides. She wondered if he'd feel less embarrassed about what'd happened if she admitted to him that she'd almost come too. Those words he'd whispered into her ear would be forever burned into her mind alongside a few other select pieces of genuinely hot dirty talk that had been growled at her over the years.
You like that, super slut?
She blamed herself, not him. She could have called for a break the second she'd felt him getting hard. Her reasoning for continuing, at the time, had been to keep from embarrassing him. Even then, the excuse had tasted like the lie it was.
She'd been fascinated by her son's hard cock. That was the horrible, shameful truth. It'd left her wondering if nearly every man she'd slept with had been small or under excited. It sometimes took her working for long minutes to even get Jeff hard in the first place. Robbie's had just suddenly sprouted into existence like he'd shot it out of a spear gun.
Alison massaged her temples and tried to think through a solution to the mess she'd made. Well, again, the mess had been mutual. She touched her crotch and knew that it was her son's cum that she felt crusted on her shorts. There'd been enough of it to leak through his sweatpants. She'd seen a stain on the mattress, but she wasn't sure if that was from him or her.
How the hell had she let things get so weird, so fast? In the span of a ten-minute wrestling session they'd tested and frayed the absolute limits of a loving relationship. She still wasn't sure if she was ready to talk to him or even what she'd say, but she knew she had to do something.
She called Brenna.
"Slow down," said Brenna. "Start over. You convinced Robbie to play the Joker for your little wrestle tease."
"I did." Alison breathed out and forced herself to continue. "We've been rehearsing."
"As you should be, given that the show is the day after tomorrow."
"It just got a little... weird tonight," said Alison. "For Robbie, more than for me."
"He's your son," pointed out Brenna. "I thought some stuff like that might crop up. When I told you to have Robbie fill in, I didn't think you'd do the same kind of routine you do with Jeff."
"Why didn't you say that at the time?"
"I thought it went without saying."
Alison groaned and sank down on the table, still holding the phone. "I just feel so bad for him. He's in such good shape, and so young. He shouldn't have to go through the emotional torture of having to do something like this with his mother."
"I mean... I doubt he's tortured by it," said Brenna. "I bet he's really confused by it, for sure, but I wouldn't go as far as tortured. Did he seem like he was enjoying it?"
Alison bit her lip. "It seemed like he was really enjoying it. Right up until..."
No. There still had to be some lines. She wasn't about to tell Brenna that she accidentally made her son come in his sweatpants. Did that really even happen? She wished she could convince herself that she'd somehow misinterpreted moment, hadn't smelled that familiar scent or seen the obvious stain.
"I think I know a solution," said Brenna.
"I was praying you'd say that," said Alison.
"Text what time you guys are planning on rehearsing at tomorrow and I'll come by and help you out."
"Thanks, Bren."
She didn't try knocking on Robbie's door again before going to sleep. He needed space and so did she. He was already up and out of the house when she woke up the next morning, which stung her heart a bit. She could understand the impulse to avoid her, but that didn't make it hurt any less.
She texted him to check up on him. His response to her question of whether he was okay was a frustratingly short yea. She let him know about how Brenna was going to help them rehearse that night, and he said he thought it was a good idea. It felt like a small step in the right direction, a small step back onto the right path.
Alison headed out to get groceries and spent the rest of the day cleaning. Robbie came home late in the afternoon, not long before Brenna was scheduled to arrive. She waited for him in the living room, legs and feet bare underneath her sleeveless summer dress.
"Hey," she said.
"Hey." He shrugged as he replied, as though her just being in his presence asked a question.
"We should talk," she whispered. "About last night. Our rehearsal."
He nodded slowly as he walked over to the couch. He collapsed onto it next to her and let out a sigh, shoulders sagging.
"I know," he said. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I just got... way too into it and..."
He shook his head. Alison touched his shoulder soothingly. He didn't have to say it. Neither did she. They could talk about it without having to say it, right? It wasn't that big of a deal.
"It wasn't your fault," she said. "You're eighteen. We were wrestling around. I wasn't exactly wearing all that much. It could have happened to anyone."
That's it, she told herself. No big deal. Just a little fender bender. A little accident. Accidents happen.
"It didn't happen with anyone, though," he pointed out. "I just got so hard."
She sucked in a breath at his word choice and spoke with a soft but warning tone. "I know, sweetie. But it wasn't your fault. I was also... really into it."
"I could feel that you were, Mom," he said. "I couldn't stop thinking about it last night."
Neither could she. But if she admitted that to him it felt like it would be losing control of the situation at the edges.
"You can think about it all you want," she said, forcing a smile. "We were just wrestling, Robbie. It got a little wild."
"It just felt so good to touch you," he muttered. "To hold you and feel you against me. And the way you kept squirming..."
"Mmm, I know, sweetie," she whispered. She set her hand on his knee and squeezed. "It was just rehearsal. We were both in character. I didn't even notice... anything weird."
She didn't even hear herself, didn't understand why she was saying what she was saying. Why had she even bothered calling Brenna and trying to get her help? She could smooth this out with Robbie. They could keep going, as they were. The idea of simply jumping into another rehearsal that night held such an intense draw. It made her feel hot, and not just in her face.
"You said you wanted to get Brenna's help," said Robbie. "I thought we might get to this point eventually. But Mom... I think I want to do it with you."
"Oh, Robbie, you can do it with me." She rubbed his leg and leaned in closer. "You will do it with me, hun. Brenna's just going to help us out a bit."
"You're not worried?"
She shook her head, but it wasn't the truth. She was worried, but in all the wrong ways. Worried about what she might let happen. Aware of the danger of leaning into a situation that was clearly already out of her control.
"We haven't even had our dress rehearsal yet." She let hand slide a bit further up his leg. Just teasing him a bit, she told herself. She'd touched more than that the previous night.
She took a breath and tried to force all the weird emotions away. The situation wasn't as crazy as it seemed. She could call it off at any time. Robbie was even checking in with her, making sure she was comfortable.
She'd raised him right. She could imagine him having a similar conversation with a new lover, maybe. But that was a ridiculous comparison. She was his mother, for god's sake. The situations were nothing alike.
He leaned over slowly, taking his time in a way that made hyper aware of his presence. He kissed her on the cheek and then stayed close.
"I'm glad we could work this out, Mom," he whispered. "So glad."
"Me too, Robbie."
The moment held for long enough for Alison to wonder if he was going to kiss her again, this time on the lips. Bizarrely, she began hoping that he'd simply fall into character right there and then and try to pin her on the couch. She brushed the thought away instead of turning it over as a knock came at the door.
***
Robbie felt oddly conflicted as Brenna hugged his mom and smiled at him. She was pretty, in some ways more classically attractive than his mother.
Tall and thin with high cheek bones, she had a serious hometown supermodel aesthetic. Her boobs and butt were compact and functional compared to his mom's generous assets. Robbie felt something evil twist inside him as he made the comparison.
"You're looking well, Robbie," she said, in a playful voice. "How are you?"
"I'm good, Brenna," he said. "How about you?"
She'd always treated him like an adult. She wore sunglasses, a flirty white blouse that emphasized her waifish figure, and tight jeans. Her dark hair hung in loose curls on either side of her face.
"Your mom said you were having some problems getting into your little wrestling show." Brenna spoke the words in a teasing voice that sounded almost sensual in light of recent events. "I thought I would stop by and see if I could help you guys out."
"Thanks, Bren," said his mother.
"We were just talking about it, actually," said Robbie. "I think we came to... an understanding."
He was so confused. He had wanted to wrestle Brenna in place of his mom, but that'd been before they'd gotten into it. The idea of wrestling Brenna still had a certain erotic appeal to it, but her beauty was in her face and waistline. She was the kind of woman who would look good on his arm, rather than one to roll around with on the mat.
She represented a way out. Why wasn't he seizing it? He still remembered how ashamed he'd been after his little accident the night before. Was it worth risking another, with his mother, of all people?
At least with Brenna there might be a chance of them doing something consensual and legal to solve any unexpected boners that popped up. He felt himself getting hard as the pinch of his mother's thighs came back to him. He remembered the lurid tenor of her voice, the panic of her arousal.
Oh fuck, Robbie!
"Here." Brenna had been rifling through her bag and was now handing him something. Robbie accepted it with a furrowed brow and a shake of the head.
"Uh..." He turned it over, identifying that it was some type of weird cushion with adjustable bands in back. "What's this?"
"The solution to your problems," said Brenna. "A makeshift crotch guard. I did a shoot a while back with two married models. Married to people other than one another, that is. They used these to keep the contact of their naughty bits from being quite so naughty. They've been thoroughly washed and scrubbed in the time since, for your information."
"Oh, okay." His mother also had one and was smiling politely. "Thanks, Bren. This is... really thoughtful."
"Now, you have to tuck them into your costumes pretty well," said Brenna. "Over your underwear but under everything else. It should make sure that you and Robbie don't have to think too much about how you're moving against each other."
"It's got to be like an inch thick," muttered Robbie.
"That's the point," said Brenna. "Better than grinding on each other when you're mother and son."
Robbie saw his mom look away and turned his own gaze down as though his feet had become wildly compelling. Hearing the judgment in Brenna's voice made it real again.
They weren't the Joker and Wonder Woman wrestling under fictional pretenses. The world still existed outside of their living room. Consequences still existed even they weren't written into their scripted little wresting routine.
"Try them on with your costumes," said Brenna. "I'll hang out here in case you guys need help getting them on or adjusted or whatever."
They both did. His mom's Wonder Woman costume was a lot skimpier than he'd been expecting. Most of the craftsmanship seemed to be in the top, which cupped her tits into a perfect bouquet of plump cleavage. The skirt was pleated cloth, more reminiscent of a classical school girl outfit then true superhero garb. At the very least, the skirt hid the thickness of the crotch guard.
Robbie looked and felt like he was wearing a diaper under his costume. He had the joker mask on, a latex thing that was a little annoying to see and breathe out of. He wore no shirt, just suspenders, along with purple slacks and black shoes. The crotch guard squeaked slightly as he moved.
"Go through your routine," said Brenna. "Get a feel for how you move in them."
They did just that. It felt soulless, lacking the intensity and stakes that had seemed so exciting before. They tried the falling tower with no mattress and it worked perfectly, but their celebration was a muted high-five.
"There's one other stunt we do after this," said his mother. "Hold your arm out."
Was he picking up on a hint of boredom in her voice? He tried to tell himself that it was better than toeing the evil line they'd been walking, but it felt like a lie.
"Like this?" He lifted his right arm straight out to the side.
"Perfect." She grinned and he saw a flash of spirit. Running forward, she grabbed his arm like a gymnast and swung herself up into a quick assisted flip. Robbie laughed, amazed at her agility even despite being otherwise disheartened.
"Now," said his mother. "I keep hold of one of your arms, twist, and you go down."
Robbie flopped onto the floor. "I'm down."
"And then I pin you." She lamely pressed herself down over him. Robbie saw one of her hands graze his crotch, but the guard deadened the sensation completely.
Brenna clapped and laughed in the background. "That was so cool! You guys are going to be the stars of the show."
"Yeah," said Robbie. "I can't wait."
His mom pulled him to his feet, holding onto his hand to kiss the back of it. "Oh, come on, Robbie. It'll be fun."
She smiled at him in that way of hers, like she was trying to cheer him up without a good way of doing it. He felt ashamed of how disappointed he was. Especially after how traumatic the previous night had been for them both. Why would he want to keep playing with fire?
Brenna left. The rest of the evening was uneventful. Robbie awoke the next morning feeling horny in that unmotivated way where he didn't feel like doing anything about it.
It was Saturday, and the fundraiser was that evening. His mother was called into the gym by a shift in one of her client's schedules. She promised him she'd meet him at the fundraiser that night.
Robbie arrived at the old gym where the event was being held fifteen minutes early. Some of his friends were already inside, and he said hi to them. They were as eager to whisper about the women they'd already seen in costume for the tease show as they were to congratulate him on taking part, even if it was with his mother.
His mood lightened as he walked around and took in the generous amounts of eye candy on display. Nearly all of the women in their scantily clad superheroine costumes were the mothers of friends and acquaintances, or in some cases, sisters. He was excited to still have access to the dressing room, but that excitement deflated as he made his way to the back and discovered that it was subdivided by gender.
The thought came to him as he started to put on his costume that he had the option of simply forgoing the crotch guard. He could tell his mother that he lost it or forgot. She'd be angry, undoubtedly, but the thought of her discovering it through their movements while wrestling and trying to flex her ire mid-match made him strangely excited.
There was no point -- if she wore hers anyway, he'd still barely feel like he was doing much more than humping a rubber pillow. Robbie groaned and, not for the first time, wondered why he was so fucked up. His phone vibrated. He turned the screen on to find a text from his mother.
Call me as soon as you get this.
He called her immediately and she picked up on the first ring.
"Hey," she said.
"Hey. What's up?"
"I talked to your father." His mom let out a sigh. "He decided he's not comfortable with us doing the show after all."
"What? Seriously? But we've been rehearsing all week!"
"I know," she said. "I mentioned how Brenna helped us out and he got really weird and tense. He maybe came to the... wrong assumption."
The way she spoke the last phrase hinted at her own internal conflict.
"I mean... I guess that's that," he said. "To tell you the truth, I hated the crotch guards."
"So did I," she said, with a laugh.
"It's like wearing a diaper."
"Right?" She laughed even louder and then sighed again. "Are you going to stay for the show anyway? You're already there, aren't you?"
"Yeah, I'm here," he said. "I don't know. Are you home right now?"
"Yeah."
"...I guess I'll come home," he said.
"You sure? You might still have fun just watching the show. I know how desperate you and your friends were to sneak a peek last year."
"It would be all tease and no substance without the chance for us to do it." He winced at his own word choice. "For us to do our act, I mean."
"Of course, I get it," she said. "If you really wanted to, we could still..."
A janitor suddenly came into the locker room and began noisily toying with one of the lockers. Robbie's heart seemed to pound at what his mom had been about to say, or at least what he hoped she'd been about to say.
"I'm on my way now," he said. "I could grab Chinese on the way?"
"Let's do pizza tonight," she said. "Thanks, hun."
***
Alison was halfway into a bottle of wine when Robbie came in through the front door. She'd started drinking during her argument with Jeff, in fact. Her husband's words still echoed in her head, stirring her fury.
He'd called Robbie a little perv off the merest insinuation that he might be a bit excited by the wrestling. She hadn't told him the full story about their accident and certainly had no intention to now.
"Robbie!" She threw her arms around him and gave him a sloppy kiss on the cheek. "Thanks."
"You must be starving," he said.
"Is that your way of politely noting that I've been drinking wine on an empty stomach?"
"I don't know." He grinned as he set the pizza down on the coffee table. "Is that your way of offering me a glass?"
"Robbie," she said, in a slightly more motherly tone. "You're eighteen."
"Almost nineteen, which is more than old enough to drink in the parts of the world that aren't absurdly backwards."
Alison couldn't contain her smile. "One glass."
"To start," he agreed.
She grabbed a glass and poured while he got plates and put on something for them to watch. They were silent for a while as they ate their first slice.
"So what did he say, anyway?" asked Robbie.
"A lot of stupid nonsense," said Alison. "If I didn't know any better, I would swear he's jealous."
"Jealous?" Robbie laughed and shook his head. "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard. He does realize that I'm his--"
"Son?" cut in Alison. "Yeah. I don't know. The paranoid part of me thinks that he's up to something of his own on the trip and is just projecting his own fears back onto me."
"You think he might be cheating on you?"
"Honestly... no." Alison chuckled took a deeper sip of his wine. "His neither cool enough nor in good enough shape for that to be a real worry."
"Savage, Mom. He must have said something that really ticked you off."
"Oh yeah."
They ate some more and drank some more. Alison shot Robbie a mock glare as he made to refill the one glass of wine she'd allowed him, but she didn't stop him.
"We got cut off before on the phone," said Robbie.
"We did."
"I thought you were about to say something about us and our act," said Robbie. "Doing it."
Alison shrugged, somehow both excited and annoyed that he'd caught that part. "I mean, I just thought... it was a waste. For us to spend so much time rehearsing and then never really run it like we would in the show."
"We could do it here, Mom." Robbie nudged her leg with his and even just that tiny contact burned her bare flesh. "Tonight. Just you and me."
She opened her mouth to tell him no, or at least that it was a dangerous idea. "...Okay."
"And I also thought, um..." Robbie let out a low chuckle. "There's no real point in using the guards if it's just us."
"I agree, sweetie." She touched his knee, almost steadying herself as much as reassuring him. "I'm sure it'll be fine if we're careful."
"So am I, Mom. Do you want to start right away?"
"I'm game if you are. Costumes?"
"Let's go change."
He stood up first, taking her hand and helping her to her feet. Alison could feel how close he was behind her as they hurried upstairs. It felt like they were going upstairs for a different reason, footsteps hasty, excitement primed like a noise in the air.
Alison had laid her Wonder Woman gear out earlier in the day. She'd showered since getting home from the gym, but the underwear she had on seemed like a bad fit for the costume. She ditched the bra completely and picked out a pair of black lace panties. The thought of wearing sexy ones in hopes of Robbie seeing them made her feel naughty, but the thought of wearing plain ones irked her.
He's going to see them anyway, she thought. Might as well wear ones that don't make me look like an old maid.
It wasn't lost on her that the situation had all the makings of a bad idea. She reminded herself that she was doing it for her son. He was clearly disappointed by Jeff's veto of their show. She had to give him the chance to wrestle at full intensity. Otherwise, all that practice would go right to waste.
She was breathing fast as Robbie's knock came at the door. She took one last look in the mirror before setting a fierce superheroine expression on her face and greeting him.
"I ditched the mask," he said, smiling in his purple trousers and suspenders. His bare chest and stomach had the lean lines of muscle due an evenly toned swimmer.
"Well then," she said, in character. "All I have to do is report a description of the Joker's face to the police and you'll never be able to go out in public again."
She made to shoulder by him. Robbie let her out of her room, but grabbed at her as she made her way down the hall.
"You think I'll just let you walk out of here untouched?" he shouted. "Think again, Wonder Woman!"
Alison laughed as he yanked back on her hips. She pulled free of him and raced downstairs, having all together way too much fun.
***
Robbie was already hard by the time he made it downstairs. He watched his mom pushing the coffee table out of the way, butt jutting out as she moved. Her Wonder Woman skirt was flirty and tiny, the kind of skirt that gets molested by a strong breeze.
She caught him looking with a glance over one shoulder. "Like what you see, Joker?"
"A superheroine bent over in front of me? How could I not?"
He pushed the couch out of the way in record time and squared off against his mother. She had this smile on her face that seemed to blossom every time their eyes met, despite her efforts at maintaining character.
They both knew what to do and began circling each other without needing a signal. Robbie found it perfect, somehow, that all the rehearsing they'd done would still be put to use. It was just the two of them, a private little show for one another, for their eyes only.
They did their first few passes with full commitment and character. His mom got under his arms on the first one and dodged around him on the second. He grabbed her arm the third time she rushed toward him, pulling her back and into him for one glorious second.
She broke character for a split second, flashing a smile that she was obviously trying to contain. It was those little moments that lit the fire underneath Robbie, those little moments that he found so bizarrely hot and compelling.
He would have never dreamed of grabbing his mom like this before they'd started wrestling together. It was rough, it was dominant, and it was made a hundred times sexier by the fact that she clearly enjoyed it. She liked being grabbed and touched, restrained, mocked, even. She was into this, and every inch of Robbie's aching cock throbbed at her enjoyment.
"You're barely any stronger than a little girl," he said, laughing. "I'm only using one hand. What happens if I use two?"
He grabbed her other arm and pulled her back into him, letting his cock grind into her ass. Why not? He'd reverted back to that original goal of his, except this time without the distraction of Brenna. He was going to push his mom until she tapped out. For both their sakes, he hoped he'd be in control enough to stop when that time finally came.
He wanted to take her down to the ground and bring things to the next level. His entire body seemed to hum and glow with fluttering, pleasurable anticipation at the idea. His mom rocked her hips back, her butt moving against his cock in a manner that felt unreal.
"You're not the only one with tricks up your sleeve," she whispered.
Robbie groaned audibly and reflexively loosened his hold on her. She laughed and twisted away, running over to where the couch was against the wall to bounce off it as though it were the ring's ropes. Her breasts jiggled with incredible movements as she came back to standing, almost bouncing right out of her Wonder Woman top.
She ran right at him on the next pass. Robbie wrapped his arms around her as she jumped up and onto him. Were they already doing the falling tower? He wasn't sure he cared if they were, or even if he could make himself stick entirely to the script.
He twisted, lowering her down onto the couch as they moved toward that side of the room. He fell atop with a bounce on the cushions. His mom laughed and tried to scissor her legs around him.
"You keep staring at my chest," she said. She bit her lower lip and snapped one of his elastic suspenders against his shoulder.
"Pull on my costume and I'll pull on yours." He yanked once at her top, and then again, a little harder. It came loose with less force than he'd realized it would take. For a silent second, Robbie could do nothing but stare at his mom's pale, plump tits.
She laughed and made to pull her costume back up into place. "Perv. Though I don't know why I'd expect otherwise from a supervillain. I--"
He next sentence bit off into a surprised, but not displeased squeal. Robbie grabbed one of her breasts before she could stuff it back into her top. He had no idea what he was doing, what was wrong with him... but he had to touch it. It was so soft and warm under his palm and fingers, the tip of her nipple so hard and erotic against the inside of his hand.
"Oh damn," he muttered. "Mom, your tits are..."
"Joker," she said, with emphasis. "You like them? Well, too bad!"
She rolled backward, set her feet to his chest, and thrust him back with a forceful but not violent movement. Robbie stumbled to standing. He almost swore again as he saw her rushing to stuff her boobs back into her costume. Next time, he'd take more off.
...Next time?
"It's only going to get harder for you from here," he growled. "You should tap out now."
"Mmm, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" She pulled the edge of her costume up a bit, stealing what remained of his view of the edge of one of her nipples.
"I'm not going to stop if you don't tap out."
Her gaze flicked down for an instant. He had an erection, but that'd been the case since before they'd even started. It was more that she was letting herself look at it now. Her eyes considered it like a target, a weak point for her to keep in mind, moving forward.
She ran at him again. Robbie didn't spare a single thought for where they actually were in the routine, only how he could get a hold of her, bring her down, touch her and pin her. She tried to twist by him, but he got ahold of her and pulled her back.
He groped one of her breasts, emboldened by his earlier first touch. One of his mom's hands touched his erection but pulled back instantly like she'd set it on a hot stove. She persisted, grabbing his bulge and squeezing right to the line of pleasure and pain.
"I can play dirty, too," she hissed.
"I haven't even started playing dirty yet," he countered.
He made the meagerest attempt at continuing with the wrestling. The core of his attention was, bluntly, focused on molesting her. She was letting him get away with everything so he touched everything. He squeezed her tits. He rubbed on hand up her thigh. He copped a feel of her ass.
"Almost forgot," she whispered. She knocked back against him to buy herself some space and then braced her hands on the arm of the couch. She hummed a little song as she started doing her indecent butt shake routine.
Robbie came up behind her, arm poised for what came next. He waited a second or two, drawing the moment out as his mom waggled and waited like a horny skank. The first slap was just a step above gentle, but she still sucked in a hard, pleasured breath.
"You like slapping my ass, you evil supervillain bastard?" she gasped.
"You like having it slapped." He did it again and she let out a high pitched noise of pleasure. "You love it."
"Oh, fuck!"
He slapped her ass again, not doing it hard specifically so he could keep doing it. The twitches running through his mother's body seemed drawn out of her now, a submissive, sex kitten reaction to being used and abused.
"That's it, Mom," he growled. "Shake that ass."
"Robbie!" she moaned, arching her back, mouth lolling open. "Oh fuck! Robbie... Joker, I mean."
"Wonder Woman." He took a handful of her butt, fingers sliding down to graze her pussy. "Wonder Whore."
"Oh god!"
She fell forward and then laughed nervously, coming back to a wrestling crouch and her character. It was as though part of her was scared, as though part of her clung to the pretense like a shield against the intensity and insanity of the moment. But that was fine by Robbie. He saw her expression and smiled at her, and she grinned back.
They were both having fun. There was nothing wrong with having fun... was there?
"You... shouldn't call a superheroine a whore, sweetie." She started circling him on quivering legs.
"Is that right? I can only call you a whore when you're not in costume, then?"
"Robbie!" she snapped, summoning some motherly authority to her tone.
He laughed and grabbed one of her arms. "I told you, Wonder Woman. If it's too much for you to handle, just tap out and it'll be over."
"It's not too much for me to handle, mister, and I, oh!" She gasped as he pulled her to him and began touching her again. "You'll... be the one tapping out."
She jumped on him again, arms and legs wrapping tight at shoulder and waist level. Their faces were level for a perfect but horrible instant. Robbie felt an insane temptation to kiss her, but they didn't kiss. He was pretty sure they both knew that even just one kiss on the lips would break the spell, snap them out of it.
He decided he would much rather make her tap out than kiss her.
They shifted around the room, falling onto the couch. He slid between her thighs and humped into her for a few glorious seconds, playing it up with an exaggerated Joker laugh. She yanked on his suspenders and managed to get her toes into his beltline. His purple slacks fit him poorly, hence the suspenders, and began to droop comically down his ass.
"You're turn for a wardrobe malfunction!" she laughed. "How does that feel?"
"How does this?" Robbie squeezed the inside of his mother's thigh and a tremor of horny noises sounded from her lips.
She twisted and, with a surprising burst of strength, managed to roll him off the couch and onto the floor. He landed with a thud, kicking loose his useless trousers. She fell atop him, feigning an elbow drop to his chest.
Robbie stared up at her, his acting giving way to actual awe, as she settled her ass back on his hard cock. He was only wearing his boxers now. She could probably feel it as clearly as if he'd been naked, probably sense the heat more than if he'd had a condom on, given the thinness of the fabric.
"Nearly pinned you already," she said, in a teasing voice.
"Not happening," he laughed.
"We'll see about that." She rocked her hips back and forth, ostensibly adjust her positioning. Her butt felt insane against his cock. Robbie had a moment of fear as he realized that, if she kept going, they might end with a similar mess the same way as they had a few days earlier.
"I'm stronger than you." He grabbed one of her wrists.
"You... might be, sweetie, but strength isn't--"
She whooped as he rolled her over with ease. Her hair spread out underneath her head like a halo, and she held her legs out in a manner that was unnecessary, but incredibly hot. Robbie pinned her arms and could only gape as he watched her squirming underneath him. She had this smile on her face, reluctant but eager, an honest response to being so completely in a supervillain's power.
"You really stuffed yourself into this slutty little costume, didn't you?" He pulled her tits loose again and they each fell at odd, mismatched angles.
"You want to strip me?" she snapped, making no attempt to cover herself. "Is that it, you horndog? You want to see me naked?"
"Why not?" He cackled villainously and tossed her skirt up. "Hold on. You're wearing lingerie!"
"No!" She laughed and tried to cross her thighs, but Robbie had already seen the sexy black lace cupping her crotch.
"Did you wear these for me, Mom?" he growled. "Wonder Woman."
"I bought them for your father."
"We both know that's not what I asked," he said. "Mind if I get a closer look?"
He hooked his thumbs into the fabric and started sliding them down, aware of just how far off the rails they were.
"Oh, fuck!" His mom shuddered and grabbed his arm but didn't try to stop him.
"Jesus, they're practically soaked." He balled them up and sniffed them. His mom slapped his chest, letting her fingernails gently rake as she let out another moan.
"You little brat," she whispered. "It's just sweat."
"Is it?" He started to reach his hand down between her legs. She caught his wrist, eyes bulging despite the smile underneath.
"Tap out, Mom," he growled.
Her expression flipped to defiance with whiplash speed. "Not a chance."
He yanked his hand free and touched her thigh. "Tap out."
"Mmm... I don't think I will." She got her hand atop his again, trapping it where it was.
He shifted forward, letting his cock probe between her legs instead of trying to strip her grip. "Seriously, Mom, Wonder Woman. You might want to tap out."
"Make me," she whispered.
The tip of his boxer clad cock pressed against something moist. Her skirt was still covering the better part of her crotch, but he didn't need to see what was happening for him to know what was going on down there. They both knew it.
"Tap out, tap out, tap out," he whispered against her ear.
"I'm not tapping out, so..." She did kiss him then, against the cheek, but with sucking intensity. "Deal with it."
"I'm not going to deal with it, I'm going to deal with you." He yanked his boxers down, knowing he was crazy, but too horny to care. "Super slut."
"Oh fuck, Robbie!"
He pressed his cock forward and felt the wetness, the heat, a soft pinch from her tightness. Fuck, she was tight. His mother was tight. What the fuck was he doing?
"Oh... what the fuck," he muttered. "Gonna... tap out?"
"Make me!" she hissed. "Fuck, sweetie! Make me, make me, make me!"
"You know I'm going to!" He started driving into her, taking no time at all to get up to speed. "Oh, fuck, Mom. Take it!"
"Make me, sweetie!" she cried in ecstasy. "Make..."
Her face contorted along with the rest of her body, back arching like she'd been thrust into the end of an exorcism. Robbie squeezed one of her tits and fucked her faster. The clap, clap, clap of their bodies was impossibly dirty and judgmental. The window blinds were open -- they were in the living room, clear line of sight to the sidewalk and street.
He finally did kiss her then, but his mom was so blissed out that it was like kissing a sleeping woman. He sucked on one of her nipples, knowing he'd done it once already as a baby. He felt sick to his stomach at the thought and simultaneously so turned on that his head was pounding from the pleasure.
It was her fault. Why hadn't she just tapped out? Robbie seized his mother by the hips and yanked back into him on each thrust, horny and mad and confused. He slapped the side of her ass, emotions roiling.
"Does Dad slap your ass?" he shouted. "Does he?"
"Sweetie..." She shook her head, more denying the question than in answer. "You shouldn't... ask that. Oh!"
"Do you guys even have sex anymore?" He pulled his cock out and rubbed it against her clit. "Is that why you were so ready to go?"
"Sometimes," she muttered.
He let the tip settle against her entrance, but didn't push back in. Instead, he leaned in close. She started breathing faster, almost like she was afraid, but there wasn't an ounce of fear in her expression -- only need.
"Does Dad talk dirty to you, Mom?"
"Robbie Alexander Douglass!" she managed to hiss, through her weary sex breathing.
"Does he call you out when you act like a slut?"
He thrust forward, sheathing his cock in one movement within her tight, hot lane.
"Oh fuck!" she cried. "I, I, I..."
"You're like one of the swim team girls," he whispered, with a dark laugh. "We pass around videos of them after we bring out their inner porn star. Maybe I'll take a video of you, Mom."
"You're... gonna be grounded," she managed.
"Tap out."
She growled and wrapped her legs tight around him. They finally shared a real kiss. It almost felt like her lips meeting his stole some of his power away. She was a better kisser than he was, he suspected. She was older than him, though. Obviously. She'd been kissing since... before he was born.
"Mmm," she said. "That's it. Good, Robbie. See, you can be gentle too."
He glared at her and slapped her ass again. She gasped with pleasure and then laughed in a way that brought him back to the wrestling, the power play, the infuriating smugness of her Wonder Woman play acting.
He got back up to speed. There was no slowing down anymore. He pumped into her like a man on a mission. Each thrust made her tits jiggle and conjured tiny, indecent noises from her lips. His mom wasn't just a slut. She was dirty, kinky, all the best words wrapped up into a nice, neat package. The ultimate MILF.
But he'd gone too far. He knew it with every fiber of his being as he felt his orgasm coming into view. There was no coming back from what he'd done, no stepping back over to the safe side of the line. He looked away.
His mom touched his cheek and turned his face back to hers. She nodded slowly and wrapped her legs around him. Robbie leaned down and kissed her again, humping with frantic need. The kind of need that only she could really know how to handle.
"I'm on the pill, sweetie," she whispered. "Go ahead."
"Oh god!" he shouted. "Mom!"
He squeezed her tight as he came. It was like he was holding on for dear life. The intensity of the orgasm seemed to bounce back and forth through him. He knew he must look ridiculous, but he felt his mom's fingers caressing his hair and head, her gentle lips kissing his cheek.
He held her to him and groaned as he emptied his balls. His seed dripped out of her pussy, adding to the mess that already coated their crotches. He rolled onto his side and then his back. His mother kissed his chest and then shifted further over.
"One, two, three," she said, holding him down. "Pinned you."
"Cheater." He grabbed one of her buttocks and let his fingers toy around. He didn't realize how his response had landed until he noticed how she refused to meet his gaze.
"Your father can never know about this," she whispered.
"Know about what?"
"Exactly." She shifted to cuddle with him, not quite resting on him as a girl his age would have, but not coddling him like a mother, either. "And erase all that stuff you said to me from your mind."
"Oh, come on," he said. "It's not like I think any less of you. You're still my mother."
"That's the problem. I mean... not the problem, just..."
"I know," he said. "I love you, Mom."
"I love you too, sweetie."
She kissed his cheek. He toyed with one of her nipples.
"And I really love how slutty you are."
"You are so grounded!"
THE END