Mother's Helper Ch. 05-08

She recalled how she'd had no choice but to finger-fuck herself. How he'd drenched both of her swollen nipples with the cream from her pussy. Unable to control herself, she stuck out her tongue to taste a bit of the semen, amazed at the enormous quantity. She remembered how Matt had forced her to masturbate until she'd climaxed, pumping her long middle finger into her grasping pussy. Of course, she would never have obeyed him if she'd not been overmedicated. She extended her tongue and lapped up a larger amount, sweet and not too salty. Licking her lips, she realized it was already 7:30 am and that Matthew must have overslept.

Janice entered his bedroom and called, "Matt, you're late for work!" He awoke like a shot, concerned about getting into trouble at his summer job. He glanced quickly at his mother. She must not have known that dried spots of his cum anointed her cute nose and high cheekbones. Her lips were encrusted as well. Adrenals pumping, he threw off the covers, forgetting that he was naked. Janice saw his thick, golden cock for the first time in years. The view of his semi-hard penis was perversely exciting. Mother and son remained motionless for several long seconds as his dick twitched. She realized he was controlling her, manipulating her into staring at his penis.

Matt smiled at her, glanced at his alarm clock and jumped out of bed, running past his mother to the bathroom. Janice watched his tight rear as he rushed down the hall, impressed with the sight of his tanned, lean body.

The sight of his cock, swinging semi-hard as he bolted past her, reminded her how she'd opened her eyes a few minutes ago to the degrading sight and pungent aroma of his semen drenching her panties, semen that came from the same cock she'd just seen and lusted after. She wondered if he'd left the panties in that position on her bed accidentally or on purpose. The possibility that he'd done it intentionally aroused her.

She was in the kitchen when he dashed in, grabbed a bagel and quart of orange juice, and ran out the door. "Thanks for waking me, Mom!"

Over breakfast, Janice realized she was no longer confident that things would stop by themselves. Last night had been an outrageous session of S/M. She had to put an end to it, right away.

After breakfast, because he'd overslept, she went upstairs to straighten his room, which she was happy to do because Matthew was usually very good about doing it himself in the morning. As soon as she walked around to the far side of his bed, she gasped. The floor was littered with several dozen photos, photos that she had taken of herself a month ago.

On a Saturday night a couple of weeks ago, lonely and tipsy from a couple of glasses of wine, she'd read the instructions on how to use her camera's self-timer, put on an assortment of new lingerie, and spent an hour shooting herself in her bedroom in a variety of erotic poses. She had enjoyed herself, beginning with standard cheesecake postures and becoming increasingly lewd. She never removed her black bra, panty, garter and stocking set, or heels, but toward the end she'd assumed increasingly filthy poses, such as kneeling with a dildo propped against her pussy, or kneeling with her ass toward the camera, panties taut against her beautiful ass, shoulders on the bed, looking back at the lens suggestively.

For the final sequence, she drank more wine and moved the tripod and camera into her bathroom, stepped into the shower stall, set the timer and poured heavy cream over her face so that it cascaded onto her bra as the shutter snapped, repeating the idea down her back so the cream coursed over her panty-covered ass.

Matthew had found the photos in her dresser drawer. Humiliated, she squatted to pick up the photos with her back against the bed for support, pleased at how hot she looked. Then she realized they were covered with fresh semen. Suddenly her anger was gone, replaced by a rush of feeling in her cunt, spread wide as she squatted. Fascinated, she dipped a pinky into one splash and touched the tip of her tongue to her finger, but there wasn't enough on her finger to get enough of a taste.

She dragged her pointer finger through the thick puddle on another shot and licked off the goo, which was still slightly warm, unlike the big cold load on her panties on her bed. This spunk tasted different than her former husband's, less salty, richer and sweeter. It had been a long time since she'd had any. . . .

Remembering how her nipples had felt, crushed in the slats, and unable to stop herself, she scooped up more of Matt's thick cum from the remaining photos, luxuriating in the taste. She visualized the different things he'd done to her and pictured his thick, semi-hard cock swaying as he stood up from his bed and ran to the bathroom. She drew a dripping finger along her pussy and inserted the tip into her cunt, remembering how he'd forced her fingers into her slit. But now she wanted more lubrication. She scooped up a large clump and shoved her finger in, up to the second joint.

She repeated this with two fingers until there was no more cum on the photos, and then plunged three fingers all the way inside her well-lubricated channel, her thumb abusing her big clit. She had pushed so much cum up her cunt that her two fingers forced much of it out. She scooped up the overflow and rubbed it across her nether hole. It felt so good she gathered more cum and inserted her middle finger in her rosebud beyond the second knuckle. Recalling all the ways that he'd hurt her breasts and nipples, tied her, fingered her, humiliated her, and used her juices as an ointment for her burning nipples, she pumped away with both fingers until she came, screaming joyously to the empty house.

After calming down to normal, she noticed the lake of cum which had gushed out of her pussy. She couldn't leave it, she had to clean it up, so she scooped it into her mouth, savoring the hot cream. She decided to leave the photos exactly as they were, so Matthew would not be embarrassed. She was actually proud that her amateur photos had turned out so well that they'd been a turn-on to a guy. And there was no guy she loved, admired – or was more obedient to – than her sexy son. Dreamily, she dressed for the gym and spent the entire time working out wondering what new obedience Matthew would impose on her.

Matt returned at lunchtime. Since it was Graduation Day, he only had to work during the morning. At lunch, Janice announced a pool party for that afternoon, just the two of them. Being outside would make it a normal, relaxing time together. She'd gone clothes shopping and purchased swimsuits for them both. She handed Matt his gift. He unwrapped his present, expecting to find a pair of oversized, boxy trunks. Instead, they were black, Euro-style bikini briefs for men. "Mother, none of the guys wear these. I'd be embarrassed to wear them in public."

"That's okay, you don't have to wear them in public. They're just for wearing at home with me. Besides, the sales clerk said it's what all the guys wear on the nude beaches in France."

"In France, huh? Well, okay. But you better be wearing something good as well," he said a little threateningly. They agreed to meet at poolside at 2:00 pm wearing their new items. Matt spent the next hour thinking about how it would go and what he might get away with. He understood she was a flagrant exhibitionist. He wondered if she craved constant humiliation. He knew she had got off on his torturing her nipples last night. He was determined that she jerk him off and bet she was fabulous at it.

And he wanted to fill her cunt with something larger than her own finger. Suddenly he had an inspiration and found her bottle of thick, white sun block. It was a 6-inch plastic cylinder with a large, bullet-shaped head. Nothing could look more phallic—except for an actual dildo. He took the bottle out to the table, along with two small, round bowls that he filled with sun block, leaving them to bake in the fierce sun.

At 2:00 pm, he went outside, feeling uncomfortable in the tight suit. Janice was already sunning herself in a chaise lounge by the table, wearing the briefest black bikini he'd ever seen and sweating. Thin black laces connected three minuscule triangles, lying tautly on her glistening flesh. A pitcher of ice tea and glasses stood on the table. He set down several pairs of black leather shoelaces, watching her bulging breasts strain against the thin, tight, abbreviated top.

"Mother, you look great in that outfit!" The black bikini made her cropped black hair look even more lustrous.

"Thanks, sweetheart." She sat up in the chair, hanging her legs over the sides, excited by how handsome his muscular, bare chest looked and how tight were the tiny briefs. In order not to stare at the bulge beneath his briefs, she drank deeply from one of the glasses. He noted how the tiny triangle of material dug into her slit and felt himself grow harder. "You don't think it's too small?" she asked, gazing up at him, secure about being outside where the neighbors could easily peek over or peer through the fence and see them.

"No, you look incredibly hot!"

"You look great as well, dear." She poured him a large glass and proposed a toast. "To being together during your last summer before college." They drank, although she swallowed much more than he did.

"Whew, that's strong! What's in it?"

"Just ice tea with rum. Don't you like it?"

"Yes, it's delicious." He picked up the bottle of sun block and held it between his legs like a cock. "We don't want you to burn, do we?" He squirted a stream of thick white lotion onto her abdomen and aimed the bottle lower till the white splatter ended right at her bikini bottom. Both realized the degrading implication. "Rub it in," he said. She took a quick drink and obeyed him, smearing the thick cream into her taut belly until it glistened.

He shot a quick stream onto her upper thighs, again ending just short of the bikini. She worked it in, wondering where he was going next. "Are you going to do the top of my chest next?" she asked softly.

"Not exactly. You see, there's a problem. I'm dressed the way the guys are on the French Riviera, but you're not."

"What do you mean?" she asked, flustered.

"You know what I mean. All the women are topless in France."

"Oh. But I can't do that. Especially not in broad daylight."

"Hey, fair's fair. I don't like wearing these briefs, you know. They're really uncomfortable. Besides, we're in the privacy of our own home. It's just you and me. We've got a 6-foot fence, and none of the neighbors are home. And we can't have you tan unevenly." He noticed how she seemed to act differently now, more restless. Nervous, she gulped more of her drink. He moved closer, her breathing more rapid and shallow.

"I'm waiting, Mother. Or maybe you'd prefer that I show your porn photos to our local priest." He drank more. It was obvious that she was torn between cooperating and resisting. To increase the pressure, he straddled the chaise lounge, the pouch of his briefs level with her face and only inches away. "Do it." A fleeting thought crossed her mind. If she agreed to go topless, would he force her to suck his cock, inches from her face?

"All right, just this once, since you're insisting," she said, with a tone that feigned irritation and indulgence. Slowly, she reached behind her neck and tilted her head up at him, her enormous hazel eyes opened wide.

"Yes Mother, show me your tits. I know you're proud of them." She untied the knot and ever so slowly lowered the small triangles. He gasped. Her tawny breasts were magnificent, especially the black aureoles and nipples. Finally he got to see in daylight the thick stalks of her nipples, which were shamelessly aroused. She couldn't believe that her son had ordered her to strip, that she was sitting in front of her son with her breasts wantonly exposed – and feeling excited as never before.

"They're beautiful." She started to undo the remaining clasp in the center of her cleavage but he stopped her, thinking that she looked more lewd with the black strings and triangles hanging off her chest.

"There's something else I want you to do. We don't want your tits to get sunburned, do we? They should be protected." She shook her head, amazed that she'd obeyed him, ashamed at her flagrant nudity. He was controlling her, yet she felt like her true, inner nature had finally been freed. She was strangely exhilarated, as if this was something she'd wanted deeply for a long time.

"Turn to the side." She swiveled so that she was facing the table, feet on the ground. He moved the two bowls full of sun block to the table edge, positioned and spaced carefully in front of her. "Drink up. You'll need it for your punishment." Fearful, she began perspiring more heavily as the tension grew, her panties well beyond damp. They both drank. As soon as she replaced her now-empty glass on the table, she swooned from the heat, the rum, and the situation.

"What punishment?" she murmured, appearing unconcerned. "I haven't done anything bad."

Matt grabbed the back of her head to steady her and slowly pushed her head forward. "Oh? I was emptying the kitchen trash when I noticed a burnt smell. So I looked in the trash and found my favorite shirt—ruined."

"I'm sorry. . . I was daydreaming. . . and the next thing I knew it was too late."

"Then, to make it worse, you didn't even tell me," he said. "That's two infractions."

"I'm sorry. . . I was too embarrassed."

"And?"

"And afraid." Matt waited for more of an explanation. "Afraid that you'd punish me."

"You were right to be afraid. What are we going to do about your discipline?"

"I guessed that since you punished my nipples last night, you might hurt my breasts today?" she eked out in a small, contrite voice.

"Punish your tits how?"

She gasped in fear, realizing his plan and started to rise from the chaise in order to escape. He grabbed her hands forcefully, yanked them behind her, and held her wrists with one hand. His other hand returned to the back of her head and continued tilting her forward. She yelled.

He pushed each hanging breast into its own bowl of sun block. She screamed from the pain of the hot lotion and the hot bowls and writhed as the sensitive breast flesh was immersed in lotion that had been baking in the blazing sun for hours. Only when her struggles quieted did he pull her hair back, release her hands and return her torso to a vertical posture. "Aren't you going to thank me?" he asked.

"Th—thank you?" she said, bewildered with the pain. She sat there, hands still behind her, thick white lotion like cum covering her heaving breasts, the black nipples, now gigantic, poking obscenely through the steaming white lotion. She grimaced as the pain slowly abated.

"For disciplining you, for applying a 'correction,' I think it's called." He refilled her glass and held it to her lips, tantalizingly out of reach.

She capitulated, desperate for a drink. "Thank you for applying the correction to me." He titled the glass against her lips and she drank greedily. He was mesmerized by the sight of the sun block dripping off her breasts onto her bronzed belly and thighs. A dark stain had spread from the center of her bikini bottom. The painful breast discipline had turned her on. "Do you know what you look like, your tits covered in cream?" By the look in her eyes, she knew exactly what he was talking about. "Tell me."

It was a struggle for her to form the words. "Like icing on a wedding cake? " He shook his head. "Like you jerked off on my breasts?" she guessed.

"Sort of. Actually, you look like you jacked off a whole bunch of guys until they all came —not ejaculated — on your tits, not breasts. Do you understand the difference?" Reluctantly, she nodded with this fresh dose of humiliation. He lifted her legs and swung them back onto the chaise arms.

"But you don't want the neighbors to come over from your yelling?" She shook her head. "Then finish taking off your top. We need it." He took the fabric from her, bundled it into a ball, and held it at her closed mouth. She sat as if in a trance. "Mother, do you want them running into our backyard and seeing you, exposed in front of your son with your big tits hanging out, dripping with what they'll think are several loads of fresh semen?"

She shook her head and slowly opened her wide mouth. He pushed the material between her meaty lips into her mouth as a makeshift gag. "Now, isn't that safer?" She nodded her head, transfixed about where this was going. Something that had begun a few days ago as a little innocent, harmless teasing and fun was becoming way serious. She saw no end to the degrading possibilities. "And as long as you won't be yelling any more, there's no need for you to see any more. Let's protect your eyes from the sun." He picked up a pair of small, black goggles from a tanning salon and fitted them over her head and eyes. "Well, don't just sit there, Mother. Rub the lotion into your tits . . . If you don't, I will."

She massaged the thick cream into her breasts, her breath deepening. There was so much of it that she also worked it into her upper chest. "Don't forget those thick nipples of yours." She rubbed the hot white cream into the black points, pulling them with her fingers and sticking the edge of her nails into them, her pussy spasming.

"Now cup your hand under your right breast. Good. Lift it up." It was as if she was making an offering of her breast to him. He slapped it, hard. Matt wondered if this was discipline or sadism? Startled, she dropped her smarting breast and moaned, more in surprise than pain, her cunt convulsing. He waited. After a few seconds, she inserted her other hand under the left breast, raising both breasts up and out simultaneously. Now that must be an example of masochism, Matt thought. He slapped them both: top and sides. Gobs of sun block flew off as he struck her globes. She licked her lips with renewed pain.

Again straddling the chaise lounge, he turned around so that his ass was facing her. "Lower my briefs. Pull down the rear first." Unseeing, she pulled down his tight briefs. When his ass was exposed, inches from her face, she moved her arms around both sides of his waist to his front and pulled the briefs off his cock. It wasn't easy, since the briefs were so tight. His hard cock sprang free. She wished she could see it. "Use the sun block on me with one hand while you finger your clit with the other. You know, the same clit that's as big as your nipples."

Sightless, she found the bottle, poured lotion into her hands and began by coating, stroking and kneading his balls while she slid her other hand into her panties. She'd never felt her clit to be so engorged. Matt moaned; Janice groaned. Finally, she was touching his cock. Her touch was expert. This was okay; after all, it wasn't sex; she was just relieving her son; he had no girlfriend.

After a couple of minutes, caressing and stroking and gently squeezing his sacs, she filled her palm with another load of lotion, inserted a finger into her cunt, and clasped her hand around his shaft, lovingly milking it. He couldn't believe how good she was. After a half dozen strokes, he suddenly turned around and immediately released a torrent of cum on her face. His load was so massive it not only coated every inch of her face, it also shot thick ribbons of white across her short black hair, goggles, ripe red lips and into her mouth.

"Ugghhh!" she moaned as the spunk blasted onto her skin and into her mouth. She felt anointed by this shower of hot cum. If only she could see his cock erupting in her face, she thought. But it was a good thing that she was wearing goggles, since they kept his hot juice out of her eyes. She extended her tongue, trying to catch the drops as they fell off her eyebrows and cheeks, swabbing his sweet jism from her lips. Then she came, yelling into her gag and shaking, her body twisting and coated breasts shaking.