Let me tell you a couple things about my mom, April. To anyone she knows, she seems like the nicest lady you've ever met. She lives by the gospel, she's drop-dead gorgeous, and her smile lights up the whole room. I love my mom. But she's also kind of an idiot. I know, that's harsh; it would be more true to call her gullible. "Trusting," you could say. She's more "trusting" than anyone else in the family. And, unfortunately, she gets just about all her information from an unreliable source.
There's a website called "Christian Moon" or just CMoon for short. It was created by our pastor's wife, Abby, who from what I can gather has way too much idle time on her hands and is extremely gullible herself. She posts something sensational to it every week, then the other moms on the forums eat it up and corroborate with their own anecdotes. The worst was keeping us from getting vaccinations. That got a little too real. The rest of us had to confront her about it, kind of like an intervention. Even dad, who usually left parenting decisions to her and kept to himself, was scared enough for our safety that he got involved. In the end, she relented on the vaccines, but still keeps up with CMoon. A compromise, you could say, that kept us alive but still under threat of whatever lie she would believe next.
The most consistent theme? Masturbation. She believed every made-up claim: you could grow hands on your palms, you would go blind, you'll go prematurely bald. I actually believed that last one for a while, but after some research it's probably more likely you'll go balder faster from not wanking it. That's mom's problem: she never checks the sources, never asks for a second opinion, never googles it, just "it said so on CMoon" and that's that.
Dirty magazines, rated-R movies, ladies tennis, anything that could insight lust was strictly off limits. Again, she's trusting, so it wasn't hard to sneak anything by her, but I hate that I even need to. Even if I still live with her, I'm an adult now, I should be able to do what I want. I like that she cares and wants what's best for me even now. I admire that. I just hate that she believes lies.
So inevitably we fell into the classic situation; It was a Saturday, I was jacking off to a picture of Serena Williams on a cereal box (I hadn't been able to get myself anything good for a while), I forgot to lock the door, she forgot to knock, yada yada yada, I'm caught in the act. She closes the door in a hurry, and her first statement? "I should have known not to buy those Wheaties." Even though I was really surprised, embarrassed, and blueballed, I found it really funny at the time. Less funny was, "That's it, Julian, I've had it! I'm going to ask the other moms on CMoon how to stop this problem. It's for your own good."
Well, that was a horrifying proposition. Now the Christian ladies of the neighborhood might look at me differently because they will know I was, shock of shocks, masturbating (in my own room, on my own time, as a grown-ass man). Not only that, but they would certainly feed her some cocamaimy bullshit solutoins. Who knows what she would end up doing. Sometimes, I think these ladies are tricking my mom on purpose like elementary school bullies. I certainly never hear their kids complaining about this stuff. The idea just makes me want to yell at those suburban homemakers, "leave my mom alone!"
Although, it did give me an idea. Actually, I had had the idea for a while, but I wasn't sure when to put it into practice. This incident seemed like it must have been the right time. I was going to hack into CMoon. Well, "hack" is being awfully generous. It's a hobby website created by a tech-illiterate creationist. All I really needed to do was guess her password (her son's name and the year of his birth, first thing I tried) and I was in, with full Admin Privileges. I changed her password to something nice and obscene so she could not even try to log in while I was on.
The way the forum worked was that users posted onto the forums at night, but they had to be approved by the admin before they would show up the next day (hense Christian "Moon"). That was easy to exploit, since that way mom would not see the responses until the next morning. For now, they were mine to read and cringe at.
The first comment read, "Wash his hands with vinegar before he goes to sleep. Stings like the dickens." Ow! Gee thanks, Barbra. That started a reply chain mostly focused on putting something on my hands to keep me from touching it, from perfume to foam fingers. One mom suggested tying my hands with rope, which I'm pretty sure is actually just a fetish. Another chain was about blocking out stimulus; take away his TV, homeschool him, make his sisters wear more modest clothing (they think I'm masturbating to my sisters? What is with these people?). And of course a few moms were just dead set on punishing my behavior despite, again, being a grown adult. Some of those got slightly kinky as well, from simple spankings all the way to borderline cock-and-ball torture. I'll spare you the grizzly details. The only sane comment I saw said that I "should have to do more chores around the house" and that would solve it. I'll admit, that would probably make me masturbate less. I would be busier.
So, I obviously was not going to let all of this stand. With admin privileges, I could easily delete all of these comments and post my own just saying, "Don't worry about it, he'll grow out of it in time," or something like that. But that would only solve the momentary problem. I wanted to break mom out of believing this shit once and for all. The only way I could do that was to give her just as much constant, CMoon-level crazy, while telling her something she would never believe, even if she heard it from them. Then again, this was already pretty crazy, so I wasn't sure what I could even say that would believably top it. I mean, they were talking about bondage, cbt, incest… "yes," I thought, "incest." And so I got to editing.
When April woke up, she wasted no time in checking what was to be done about her son's perverted fall from grace. Well, she wasted a little time. Can't check CMoon without her morning coffee, afterall. "Now, then," she hummed to herself, "let's see what solutions the girls have come up with."
"The only way he'll stop masturbating," the first comment read, "is if he starts having sex properly. As the woman of the house, it's your responsibility."
"My responsibility?" April questioned. She wondered what Barbra meant by that. Maybe further comments would illuminate the situation.
"I never let my son leave the house," the first reply read, "without shooting a load inside of me. The bible says: always inside, never outside, no birth control. It's a sin to let him do anything else."
April couldn't believe it (that was why I wrote it, of course. The idea was to give her something she couldn't believe. So things were going well for my plan, right?)
April kept reading. "If your son doesn't have sex with a woman during his adolecense, he'll lose the ability to have children later in life. You use it or you lose it. Want grandkids? Let your son use your body until he's married."
"I'm happy that my second daughter was from my son," the next one read. "His father never knows the difference, and our family feels so much more whole."
"If you don't give your son sex with a woman when he's ready, he'll just be recruited by the homosexuals. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but…"
"Sometimes, on Sundays, I tell my husband to stay home so I can ride my son's penis at church. It's my little way of showing God my devotion to my family, and the pastor never notices."
"I don't just 'have sex' with my son. I make love to him. I kiss him, caress him, play with his body. He's my son, so I can't help but adore him! And I love that he adores me back."
April took a long sip of her coffee. She must have been transfixed by what she saw for a while, because it had already gone cold. How late was it? She reasoned with herself that she could not just sit there in disbelief all day. She decided she had to see me before I left the house.
She entered my door without knocking (again) and found that I was still asleep. "Wakey, wakey, sweetheart," she called to me. "You've slept in so late already."
I sat up on my bed, "oh yeah, sorry mom. I guess I stayed up later than I should have last night." I saw she was still in her PJ's, looking about as chipper as usual.
"You weren't touching yourself, were you? You know it's off limits."
"Yeah, I know." It seemed like nothing had changed. I figured my efforts might have all been for not.
"But don't worry," she continued, "I found a great solution to this on CMoon."
Oh no! My mom could not really be that gullible, can she?
"You lay back down," she told me, "and mommy will snuggle into bed beside you."
Well, that was innocent enough. But if she read what I think she read, this was not going to stay that way.
She crawled under my covers until her head popped up next to mine. Despite her usual self-righteousness, she seemed like she was taking some girlish delight from doing something she would usually think of as off-limits. I had to consider at that point if my mom was more susceptible to believing this particular lie than I would have guessed. Was she already attracted to me, or just sexually frustrated in general?
But I had to do something about this. "Mom, I have to tell you-"
"Shh, baby…" She put a finger over my mouth. Well, this was out of my hands now. She has made a long lasting habit of not listening to me and only listening to CMoon, so I really should have expected it. She jimmied herself over on top of me. I began to shake with anticipation. "Baby, baby. Tell me, have you had your first kiss yet?"
She lifted her finger off my mouth, "Mom, I-"
"Yes or no, Julian."
"… No, mom, I haven't had my first kiss yet."
My mom smiled with delight. "Oh! Well, then, you better get ready." She pulled out a stick of lipstick from somewhere (her pajamas did have pockets, but why would she-?) and with trained expertise colored her rips a luscious red. I don't know if she knew, or how she knew, but that happens to be a weakness of mine. She had great lips for it too. "Pucker up, baby!"
Up until this point, I was sincerely hoping I could stop her and explain the whole thing. She might ground me, scold me, or dip my hands in perfume or something, but long term we could look back about it and laugh. But I have to be honest, I was already looking forward to not getting the chance, and this sent me over the edge. Logic was out, lust was in, and hell yes I was going to kiss my mom.
I puckered up, closed my eyes, and let her kiss me like she's never kissed me before. First on the lips, then the cheeks, then down the neck. I was already writhing in pleasure from the sensation. She laid a few pecks on my pecs before coming back up for mouth-to-mouth. This time, it was open, intense, passionate. "How was it, baby?" she asked.
"Aw, you mean it's over?" I whined. Yes, I was flirting. You know, I'll admit, maybe I was also more susceptible to this than I would have admitted. I told you she was drop-dead gorgeous, didn't I? She had a little bit of a mom-bod. A little thick, a little chunky. Some nice big titties, a nice fat ass. Not too little, not too much. Just right. She had black hair, but that's why I still call her "Goldilocks." I can't imagine a woman hotter than my mom.
"Over?" she giggled, "Baby we haven't even gotten started." With that, she went back to kissing, first my nose, then my shoulders, then down to my belly, and finally she pulled down my chonies and under the covers placed a smooch on the base of my dick. Then on the ballsack, the shaft, and the head for last.
"What do you think of it, mom?" I asked her. "Are you proud of me?"
"It's not the size you should be proud of, honey," she lectured. "It's how you use it. Now," she continued, "I want you to promise me you'll use it right from now on. No more jacking off. It's sinful."
"Right…" I submitted.
"When you ejaculate it needs to be inside of a woman. The Bible says so. As the lady of the house, this is my job." It was still bizarre to hear her repeat my own words back to me so completely earnestly. "But we don't have to treat it like it's work. Sex is supposed to be enjoyed, after all, and I do have to admit I enjoy your body. Do you enjoy mommy's?"
"I do, mommy!" I finally got to admit it. "I think your body is the best. It's really sexy!"
"Thank you, son. And I know you mean it to," she grabbed my rock-hard dick to signify what she meant. "Do you and your little friend want to see more?"
"Language, Julian." She scolded me.
"I mean- uh- yes please, ma'am."
"That's better!" she said, simultaneously removing the only button on her shirt that was still done, revealing her gorgeous jugs! My mouth flew agape at the sight. Her nipples were super perky! I thought moms were supposed to have sort of messed up, flaccid ones, but her pair were beautiful, and they were pointed straight at me. "Want a taste? It's been, what, 18 years?"
"Yes please, mommy!"
I reached out to grab them. Her breasts felt so soft, and they moved like liquid. I teased each of her nipples with my thumb and index finger of each hand. She breathed heavy, losing herself in the sensation. Then I decided how I would have my taste: I guided both nipples together and stuck them both in my mouth at once!
"Oh dear!" my mother exclaimed. "You- haha, you surprised me!"
I didn't say anything. My mouth was busy. I massaged her breasts as if I was milking them, her nipples still tentatively stuck in the grasp of my mouth. I tried to suck them and pull them out as far as they would go, only for them to rubber-band back to their usual shape on her chest. I did this several times, and each time my mom screamed louder and louder. I should have been worried that somebody else would hear, but all I cared about was seeing if I could make my mom cum from breast-play.
I got tired of sucking and tried a more affectionate position. One hand on one tit, one mouth on the other, licking and kissing one nipple while I massaged the other. Another nice thing about that position was that it gave me a hand free, which instinctively went to my dick. This was the most turned on I had been in my life, after all.
Even in the midst of crazy pleasure, though, my mom was on my case. "Hey! What did I just say? No touching!"
"I was just getting it ready for you, mom."
"Oh yeah?" she said incredulously. "Well, I think you're ready enough." With that, she began wriggling under my covers, pulling down her pajama bottoms and panties. "You know, I was going to let you eat me out, but I can see now that I can't trust you with that. Maybe next time, if you're good. For right now…" She mounted me! "You need to get off inside me so you can calm down. Is this position going to work for you?"
I was so excited I could barely respond, "Yes, please mommy."
"Please mommy… what?" she was just teasing me at this point.
"Please, mommy, ride my penis," I struggled to say it, "cowgirl style!"
"That's my good boy!" She grabbed my dick! "Good boys should get exactly what they want." She angled it up to her pussy, and let the head inside. "So here you go, baby. Just the way you want it: sex with your mom!"
She moved her knees and her pussy envelope my entire dick. I thought I was going to go crazy! Nothing could have prepared me for how good that pussy felt. I hesitated to even look. Then, she started moving. I did not dare open my eyes. I just let myself go with the pleasure. I wanted it to last forever. I was sure that if I saw her riding my cock, I would explode instantly.
But on the other hand, I couldn't resist, so I started touching her. First just holding her hips thighs and hips to keep her steady, but my hand wandered, soon to her waist and then… I had to see it with my own eyes.
I peeked. There was my dick, going in and out of her like a piston. Every thrust put me closer to the edge. I looked up. Those glorious jugs were now bouncing, up and down, rhythmically, hypnotically. They still looked flushed from my time playing with them earlier. It just happened, and already it feels like an impossible dream! Then, I looked even higher. Mommy! Her bright, warm smile. Though it was flush with potent arousal, it was still my mother's face. I took my hands off her so I could prop myself up diagonal, closer to her. "I love you!" I said it like I had never said it before. "I love you so much, mommy!"
"I love you, too, baby," she said. "With all my heart, I will always love you." While she was still riding me, she met me halfway, face to face, and we kissed.
There was one more thing I had to do. I was close. Frankly, it was incredible that I had not cum already. I knew it was going to be a big one, a world shattering, life affirming orgasm! But I had to be the one to do it.
"Mom," I asked, "can we switch positions? I want to be on top."
"Of course, baby. Are you sure you don't want to finish first?"
"Okay then," for an agonizing moment, she slowed down her humps. She recognized that the sheets and blankets were in the way, and threw them lazily onto the floor. I saw her contemplate pulling out, but then she seemed to have a better idea. She got in close to me, nose to nose. "Okay, baby, let's roll over on 3. Ready? One, two…"
Her body swayed and I pushed myself on top of her in the same moment. In the movement, my dick managed to slip out anyways. For a split second, we both recognized what could happen: I could quickly jack myself off to completion to avoid cumming in my own mom. Part of her expected I would. Part of me too. But the much louder, less logical part told me to put it right back in, like my life depended on it.
This time, when I entered my mom, I watched her face as I did it. She was overjoyed, swelling with pride, arousal, and religious ecstasy. It made me feel good to make her feel good. I knew it could not last, I was just seconds away from blowing my top. But then she said something I didn't expect.
"Fuck me, baby!" she shouted. I had never heard my mom utter words like that before. "Fuck me hard and blow your load inside! I want it all in me! Knock me the fuck up!"
That slowed me down for a second, but I quickly got the memo. "Mom, you want me to fuck you?" I teased her. I was very much already fucking her, but I wanted to hear her say it again.
And say it again she did. Over and over. "Fuck me, cum inside me, make me your bitch!" I think that was what did it; that was the last boundary we had as mother and son. The moment she broke that down, I came like a fire hydrant. At least, it feels like I did. Just as requested, it was all inside, deep, where it could never be seen. Maybe a bit leaked out, but not enough to notice. I was still stuck staring at my mother, amazed at how different our relationship had just become.
"That was fucking amazing, mom…" I said, pushing my luck.
"I can't believe I just said all that," mom admitted. "It's so inappropriate. But you are a man now, so I guess you can use whatever language you want." She quickly added, "Just not around your sisters, okay? Or grandma. And don't be disrespectful."
"Gee, it feels great being a man." I added, "especially being your man."
"I love being your woman," she said. It felt so good to hear her say it. "And if I can make sure you go to heaven, all the better."
"I'm already in heaven, mom," I told her. "I wish we could stay like this forever."
"Hehe, well we could, but…" she looked at the time. "Oh, shit!"
"Mom!" I said, surprised at her language yet again.
"We're late for church!" she exclaimed. "Get dressed! Real quick! We have to go!"
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