tagIncest/TabooMy Mum, My Slut Ch. 02

My Mum, My Slut Ch. 02

byDontJudgeMe©

Thanks for all the feedback! I really appreciate it. Of course I can't write about everyone's fantasy but I hope you'll like it nevertheless.

*

"This has all gone wrong," I told the mirror, and my reflection more than agreed. Why was I putting on make-up, dressing up, generally making myself sexy... for my son? I was standing in our bathroom, adding the last touches of my seductive outfit that was to make Andrew take me as soon as he got home. The very thought of it made my pussy moist and I almost changed my mind again...

But no, this had gone far enough. I shed my see-through skirt and pulled my ridiculously small top over my head. I quickly walked back to my bedroom, finding some much more suitable clothes for a mom to wear when her son came home... though I kept the heels on. I just like how they sound when I walk, (okay, and how they make my ass look, but I was hiding that well-shaped ass under a pair of loose jeans, so no big deal!) is that wrong?

---

Andrew was not happy with my decision, not at all. When he came home, I met him in the hallway, determined to try to explain how a son fucking his mother is wrong. I got as far as: "Andrew..."

"How's that you're dressed?" he interrupted me with a disapproving look at my very unsexy clothes. His stern visage stopped my reasonable objections dead in my mouth -- suddenly all I could think about was how I was about to lose the best sex of my life... voluntarily! His angry eyes stole all willpower away from me.

"Ehh..." I mumbled, trying desperately to think of a probable explanation, "I- I thought..." Staring into my teenage son's eyes, I realised that no excuse was acceptable. Only my complete surrender and submission to his command would do.

Blushing scarlet, I did the only thing I figured might ease his anger: I knelt down before my own son, hoping that it'd be enough to get me back in his good graces.

How quickly I'd gone from deciding to end everything to humiliate myself in front of him -- I hadn't even been able to say my piece before he broke me, just by looking at me! Despite my good intentions there had been no discussion, no argument, no fight, just me completely submitting to him. Still wearing his coat, he looked down at me, his willing slut, with a smirk, clearly satisfied to see how his mere will literally had brought me to my knees.

"Maybe we should go through your clothes... see to that such a mix-up won't happen again," he told me, thoroughly pleased with himself. Well, who wouldn't be in his situation? My own pussy was very happy with how it had all worked out...

---

"Nope. No. Not that one either," my beloved son muttered, mostly to himself as the 'throw-away' pile grew taller and taller for every item of clothing he discarded... for every piece of my clothes he discarded! I winced as he took up my expensive, black Victoria's Secret-panties and studied them.

He was standing in my bedroom -- a place he'd had no business in just a few days ago but now walked around as if he owned it. Okay, admittedly he did...

He was throwing away all my 'boring' clothes -- boring to his eyes. Apparently everything that was comfortable to wear and didn't show off my body was too modest in his eyes. So far the pile contained almost all my panties and a lot of my bras (all those he'd come across without enough of a push-up effect to please him) and he was still only on the lingerie!

"Here, try these on, mom," he told me as he threw the flimsy panties to me. I was kneeling on the floor, watching as more and more of my collection of garments was being discarded by my commanding son. It was a very strange situation but there was no way I could tell him no; not only was my entire body aching for his touch -- and if I made him mad again, he might not give me what I craved! -- but he just... well, he was in charge. My clouded little mind was in no doubt about that.

"Yes," I eagerly agreed and picked them up, stood up and slid them on. It was a pair of tight, hip-hugging boy-shorts, very low-cut and made from a flimsy see-through material. They just oozed sex and I knew he could clearly see the outline of my pussylips -- especially now, as I was quickly getting them quite wet under his satisfied eyes.

"Keep them," he demanded after having studied my crotch intimately and turned back to my underwear-drawer and I once again knelt down, waiting for something else to model for him. Or whatever else he might require of me...

I was kneeling on the floor, just wearing the pair of spiked heels (they were at least 4" and was now the 'standard' -- all footwear with shorter heels was to be discarded -- "sluts wear high heels," as he'd said) I'd been wearing when he came home, the panties he'd just given me and a red push-up bra that gave me the cleavage he desired. I was gracefully allowed to keep on whatever he'd made me try on last -- hence the mismatching clothes... and me actually wearing anything!

"Heh, I guess that means you have one pair of panties left!" he laughed to himself as he threw the last of my underwear on the pile and reached the end. He looked at me and I forced a smile, showing nothing but acceptance and adoration. Please fuck me before going on to the tops! I tried to tell him with my eyes.

I don't think it worked though, mostly because he wasn't interested in my eyes; he was looking very hard down my cleavage. I guess it was fair though, my eyes were constantly darting from his eyes to his crotch, hoping to catch a glimpse of the manhood I'd become so addicted to. Was it hard? It was difficult to tell through the jeans he wore but I think I could see the outline of his long cock. It looked good... it looked promising!

"Phew, I need a break," he told me, still staring at my tits, "this is thirsty work... I need a drink."

"Would you like a coke, dear?" I asked, trying to sound humble and pleasing. If I could please him, he might do that same for me...

"No, beer. Men don't drink coke!" he said, sounding insulted that I had insinuated he wasn't man enough for a beer.

"Sorry!" I smiled, "So silly of me. I'll get you one right away!" I stood and left the room to get him a cold beer, all the while cursing myself. Of course he wanted a beer; he was trying very hard to show me -- and himself -- that he was the man now. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Evidently it wasn't enough to fuck the house's woman, bring her to her knees and tell her how to dress and behave... he had to act like a stereotypical man too. He had to act like the man he thought any woman wanted.

Out in the kitchen I found him a beer in the fridge and also a glass of wine for myself. I needed a little liquid courage, so I downed it quickly before going back with his beer.

What a sight I would have been, should any of the neighbours happen to look in on me as I hurried through the house, dressed like a mix between a porn-star and a whore with an open beer in hand, eager to please my son and lover.

I needed him. I needed a good, hard fuck. Seeing how easily he took control of me, of the entire situation, how he overcame any of my objections without a word... it was so hot! Right now, in my bedroom, he was busy making sure I'd never be known for anything but a slut again, by throwing away any and all decent clothes I might have had... and all I could think of was how much I wanted his big, hard cock, hammered into me.

Plastering the sexiest smile I had on my face -- one that had always worked in the bars when I was looking for a little fun -- I went back into the room, swaying my hips for his benefit, acting sexy. He was sitting on my bed (a good sign!), awaiting me and his beer.

"Here you are... a strong beer for a strong man!" I said in my most flattering voice while sitting down in his lap, my soft ass grinding into something that quickly became rather long and deliciously hard! Mhmm... what could that be?!

I handed him the beer but kept my seat, my intentions made very clear: A scantly-clad woman, almost humping his fat cock through his pants. I turned around in his lap, planting my soft lips against his in a long, loving kiss. Without hesitating he kissed me back, far more demanding than me, and I readily opened my mouth for his probing tongue.

"Mhm..." I sighed, enjoying his warm lips, his curious tongue and the intimate feeling of the kiss. My hands went exploring, feeling his hard chest and toned arms. He was far more buffed than I'd ever realised!

"So strong and masculine," I whispered to him, truly meaning it and knowing that he'd like to hear it, "you're such a man!" I could see his self-esteem swell at my admiring compliments... and something else was certainly swelling too!

"Why don't you enjoy your well-earned beer?" I suggested and slid down on the floor, ending on my knees between his spread legs with my face very close to his crotch, "and let me help you... relax?" My greedy fingers were already working on his jeans-button and zipper before I had finished speaking. He smiled his superior smile and took a sip of his beer, while I found what I sought: A very hard cock, more than ready for me.

"Yummy!" I muttered under my breath as it stood proudly into the room while I scooped his jeans and boxers down to his knees. Studying it carefully, I could see little drops of precum ooze out of the little slit. It was clearly looking forward to this as much as I was!

I know how to give blowjobs; Lord knows I've spent enough time on my knees. Yet there was something special about this. Maybe it was because I hadn't initiated sex with my son before (not that he knew at least, though when I dressed up the night before, that might have been my goal...), maybe it was because this was the first time I was going to taste the dick that had given me so much pleasure...

Ignoring my sentimental feelings, I took the huge, mushroom-shaped head in my mouth, getting my first salty taste of that wonderful tool.

"Mhm!" I sighed in delight, as I began sucking on his magnificent cock. My tongue gently massaged the head and added pressure to the soft parts, just below.

"Ahh!" Andrew moaned loudly above me, clearing enjoying himself, "that's great, mom, right there..." He put his hands on my head and pressed my face further down on his cock, encouraging me to take it all into my mouth. Needless to say, I was more than willing -- I'd taught myself to deepthroat a long time ago...

Inch by inch, the entire length of his hard shaft entered my mouth and continued down my throat. I had to suppress the gag-effect that desperately wanted me to get the huge cock out, but despite the unpleasantness, it was just so naughty! My tight, little throat, my gently sucking mouth, my red, welcoming lips; all worked together to give my son the most possible pleasure. I cast a quick glance up at him -- he was clearly enjoying the beer and blowjob his mother provided for him! He sat with a dreaming look in his face as he drank deeply of the bottle.

"Shit, mom!" he groaned when he took a small break from his drinking, "you're good at this! What a slut! No wonder everyone wants to fuck you! But," he finished with a controlling gleam in his eyes, "you're mine now! Mine!"

I don't know if his power-trip edged him on, but it certainly made my pussy drip! God, to hear my own son call me a slut and then claim ownership over me! I pulled my face off his cock, caught my breath and stared up into his eyes. My hands quickly began jacking him off, keeping his arousal at a maximum.

"God, yeah, I'm YOUR slut now!" I assured him, "you're my man, and I want no one else!" I know it sounds like I was just playing p to him but at that moment --that's how I felt. Like I belonged to him. I must have been quite a sight, as I knelt there between his legs, a line of drool connecting my mouth to his wet cock.

"Yeees!" he hissed, "suck me, mom, suck me, you little slut!" and pressed my face back down on his cock, my greedy mouth quickly finding the rock-hard tool that belonged in me -- my mouth or pussy, it didn't matter. My hand kept jacking on his long shaft while my mouth and tongue focused on his head, trying to please him as much as possible.

Unbeknown to my conscious mind, that was busy getting my son off, my left hand suddenly found its way down between my thighs, where it got inside my panties. It immediately found my little, hard clit and teased it, making me give little moans of joy into the hard cock in my mouth.

"Fuck, mom!" he suddenly shouted, and just as I was getting into a good rhythm he pulled his cock out of my mouth. With a hard grip of my hair, he steadied my head and with a few, feverish strokes of his long, hard cock, wave after wave of his hot seed splashed over me.

I've only gotten a cum-shower once or twice before, and I've never enjoyed it -- it just seems so demeaning to me. Maybe that was why I loved the feeling of my son's pearly, warm sperm landing in long stripes all over my up-turned face.

After having gotten cum dumped in your open mouth, on your nose, on your eye, forcing you to close it and even in your hair, you're not in doubt of the pecking-order. If there had been any doubt, they were washed away as my son painted his mother's face with his white colours, effectively making her -- me! -- his own, personal slut. As his hot seed descended upon me, my fingers were busy in my cunt.

I loved it! The perverted act of sucking off my son, him returning the favour by cumming on my face like I was a cheap hooker or a porn-star, all the while I was frigging myself off the best I could! So filthy!

And just as that thought hit me, I could feel how an intense orgasm began working its way through my body. Desperate for more stimulation, more submission, more humiliation, I took his still-hard cock in my mouth, cleaning it with my tongue.

There I knelt, wearing sexy lingerie for my son, licking the last drops of cum off his softening dick, face almost white with cum with a hand in my cunt when the most powerful orgasm I'd ever given myself hit me with full force. Though I'd tried to hide what I was doing with me free hand from him, there was no hiding the explosive orgasm that crashed over me, making me scream into his soft cock.

"Olh, Glooood!" I cried, the large dick in my mouth obscuring my words, but I think Andrew got the gist anyway.

"You're such a slut, mom!" he smirked at me, not even trying to hide the pleased, superior look he gave me, when he realised how much I'd enjoyed being his cocksucker.

"Yeeef!" I agreed, still in the throes of my orgasm. Pulling myself off his enthralling (and now clean) cock, I gave him a loving smile, "I'm you're slut, aren't I?"

---

After a short rest, he returned to shifting through my clothes and after bringing him yet another beer, I began cooking. Pasta Bolognese, something that didn't need constant supervision -- my son might require me to model something for him after all.

It's a strange but very arousing feeling to cook in lingerie. If you add a face full of sperm to it, it gets better. If you constant remind yourself that it's your son's sperm and that he's in your bedroom, throwing away all your none-sexy clothes, it gets very hard to focus on anything, save your throbbing pussy. The primal way, in which he'd marked me, claimed me as his own, personal fuck-toy was just so damn arousing. He was my son, for crying out loud, and I was carrying his cum on my face as a badge of honour! So naughty, so wrong... so good!

There really isn't a more basic, primal way to mark your woman than filling her face with your cum and making her keep it on. No one seeing her will be in doubt that she's already claimed and she certainly knows that she has a male to take care of her.

My pussy kept begging me for attention -- one would have thought it was satisfied for the night, but no-no. Although he hadn't given me any rules per say... except that I was to be nice to him, it somehow felt wrong to frig myself off without giving him pleasure as well. Sort of like touching his property without permission.

"Mom!" he suddenly called, interrupting my internal discussion and I hurried into the bedroom where he was still busy.

He threw a black skirt at me, "put this on. And bring me another beer!" I quickly stepped into it, it was a very short skirt, one Andrew's father had given me for some 'special times' as we had called it. Fitting that I would wear it for his son, really. I turned around on the spot, giving him various angles of me in the skirt that only just covered my asscheek, and we both noticed how the combination of it and the heels made my ass look good! I know I probably shouldn't say so myself, but it did! Even though a woman has turned forty, she can still be sexy... just ask my son. He was certainly staring at the clear outline of my butt through the tight skirt -- and he'd cum less than ten minutes ago.

"Keep it on," he gracefully decided, allowing me to wear yet another piece of clothing. I smiled gratefully (yes, I was grateful to be allowed to wear clothes in my own home!) and went to get him another beer, wondering all the same if it was a good idea. As far as I knew, he wasn't used to drinking, and it might hit him harder than he would expect. Then again, I certainly wasn't going to tell him he was drinking too much!

---

"Come here, you shexy slut!" he mumbled at me as I began to clean off the table after dinner (taking his dishes as well -- he did a thorough job of teaching me that last night!). He'd had five beers and a glass of wine, so neither his speech nor his movements were as secure as earlier. But his sudden grip of my arm was strong and there was no way, I could or would offer any serious resistance as he dragged me into the bedroom. I was a little nervous, I didn't know what he was going to do with me, and he didn't seem in complete control of himself... but at the same time my eager pussy was screaming: 'Yes! Yes! He's gonna take us again! Finally!'

In the bedroom, I quickly ended up in the bed (where else would a 'sexy slut' go?) with him standing above me, looking down at my luscious body.

"I got an idea," he informed me, letting his hungry eyes run up and down my semi-naked body, from my sperm-crusted face, over my openly presented tits with my deep cleavage, down to my ridiculously short skirt that had glided up and was now showing off my wet panties.

He seemed lost in his view of me, sprawled out on the bed, just waiting for his touch and he didn't finish his line of thought.

"Tell mommy your idea," I edged him on in a sultry voice, not at all in doubt that we were going to do as he wanted -- and that I'd like it too. It was just so dirty, reminding him that he was drooling over his mother! Hearing my words, he shook his head, as if pulling himself back together.

"You'll shee..." he said in a foreboding (and somewhat drunk) voice, "get on your hands and knees..."

Only too keen to comply, I immediately turned around, presenting my barely-covered ass to him, a million thoughts racing through my head. Did he want to do me doggy-style, or was his idea something else? He crawled up into the bed to me, standing on his knees behind me.

The skirt got out of the way quickly and he pulled my sticky panties down, getting easy access to my wet, willing cunt, dripping with juices... and equally easy access to my tight little asshole, if that's what he wanted.

I'd done anal before, of course. Many of my dates had begged for it or even demanded it, and I'd found that it could be quite good -- if the guy knew what he was doing. Somehow I had a feeling that my slightly drunk, near-virginal son wouldn't be so skilled...

"Great ass, mom!" he muttered behind me and grabbed my cheek, giving it a good squeeze. That's the kind of compliments that'll warm a mother's heart, I thought ironic but still flattered. I wasn't exactly young anymore, and every time he noticed how I sexy I was, I got a silly little smile on my lips.

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