tagIncest/TabooViolating Mommy Ch. 03

Violating Mommy Ch. 03

byVanillaExtract©

- Quick disclaimer, this is not a tame story. There is a theme of non-consent/reluctance involved. Also, a very special thank you goes out to my volunteer editor Denorange for putting up with me. Comments good and bad are always encouraged. I hope you enjoy it. I did >:) -

*

The next morning, I was determined to put an end to what had happened. I showered, got dressed in my usual waitress atire, put on my nametag, and then went to wake up Dillon. I stormed right into his room, shaking him angrily.

"Up! Wake up!"

"Huh? Oh, hey, Mom. Time for a quickie?"

I scowled. "Take a shower and then come have breakfast. We need to talk."

"Uh-oh. Grounded again?"

"You wish."

I stormed off and went into the kitchen, making a couple of fried eggs and throwing them on a plate with some toast, spreading some margarine for flavor. Dillon came into the kitchen a moment later, fresh from the shower, his hair wet, body glistening, a towel around his waist. He probably thought something was going to happen; well, he had another think coming.

"Sit," I ordered.

He sat. "So, you're pissed?"

"I am more than pissed, young man."

He picked up his toast and eggs and made sandwich, taking a bite. I remained standing, crossing my arms over my chest, putting on my motherly glare.

"So, let's hear it?" Dillon said.

"You crossed the line last night," I said.

He rolled his eyes. "You liked it."

"Fuck you, Dillon. Just shut up."

"Damn," he said, looking up at me. "Where's the swear jar?"

"You listen, and you listen well," I said. "You're going to graduate high school in three months, so this is your 90-day notice. I want you out of this apartment the day school is over. Do you understand me?"

He was dumbfounded. "Are you serious?"

"You bet your ass I am."

"But I'm your son."

"You stopped being my son the moment you fucked me."

"What the hell does that mean?" he demanded, standing up.

I took a step back. "Don't you dare touch me. Don't think I won't call the police on you."

"Mom, you wanted it," he said. "Look, I get that you feel guilty, but there's no reason to. You're still my mom, and I still love you. If you like it and I like it, why can't we have sex?"

"Because it's wrong, Dillon!"

He took a step closer, but I quickly grabbed the butter knife sticking out of the margarine container, holding it up in warning.

"Jesus, Mom!"

"You hold it right there!"

"Mom, relax. No one has to know. Let's just fool around. It doesn't change anything between us. Look, seriously..." He took a step back, holding up his hands. "I know I don't obey your rules. I don't clean my room. I don't take out the trash. I don't follow curfew. But I'll try harder. I'll be a better son. I will. You're the boss. Let's just, you know, have sex once in a while."

I put the butter knife down. "Dillon, I don't want it. I'm serious, 90 days. And maybe after you move out, if you are an exemplary young man, I might consider you my son again, but I can't forgive you for what you've done. Now, I'm going to work."

I moved past him, but then he grabbed my wrist, stopping me. "Wait."

"Dillon, let me go."

"Let me just say something," he said. "90 days? Okay, fair enough. You're right. You should kick me out."

I nodded, trying to pull my wrist away, but he tightened his grip. A smirk started to spread across his face.

"So I guess that means I've got 90 days to enjoy your pussy."

"No, Dillon," I said.

"Yeah, cause I think you want it just as much as I do, you just don't want to admit it."

He pulled me closer, and I started to struggle.

"Dillon, stop! I'll call the police! Stop it!"

He turned me around, laughing at my attempts to break free of his tight grip. Then he bent me over the kitchen table, shoving my face in the scraps of his egg sandwich, twisting my arm behind my back, keeping me from struggling.

"Oh, god, no, not again!" I cried. "Please, Dillon, don't! I'll call the police!"

"Will you?" he said, his hand rubbing up and down across my ass. I turned my neck to see him out of the corner of my eye. He opened his towel, letting his long cock flop out into the open. It was already growing bigger and bigger, and then he rubbed it up against my ass. "Yeah, I bet you will."

"I will," I whimpered as he started to lift my skirt.

"They'll arrest me for rape. I'll lose my college scholarship. I'll go to prison. I'll never have a career. You'll ruin my life. Yeah, I bet you'll call them right up."

I closed my eyes as he started to rub his hand over my panties. "Dillon, please. I'm your mother. You can't just fuck me whenever you want."

"That's exactly what I'm going to do. I'm going to make you my sexy, slutty mother. I'm going to fuck you as much as I want."

His palm pressed into my sore pussy lips, digging between them, making me groan and squirm, trying to shake his relentless fingers from me.

"Please don't," I said. "Dillon, I can't do it. My pussy is so sore. I woke up this morning, and I'm just raw. Please, baby, if you love me, don't keep fucking me like this. I can't keep up with you. Please."

He grabbed the waistband of my panties and peeled them down my thighs, leaving them around my knees. Then he kicked my feet apart, spreading my legs open, exposing my hot pussy to the cool air.

"Fuck, you are raw, aren't you?" he said, his fingers massaging my pussy lips.

"Yes," I whispered. "Please not again. I'll...I'll suck your cock. I won't bite. I'll be good. Just don't fuck me again."

I felt his cock head rubbing across my red pussy lips. I whimpered. He didn't care.

"God damn you, Dillon. You're really just going to fuck me as much as you want, aren't you?"

"Yeah," he said huskily, rubbing my slit with his cock head.

"Is that all I am to you now, a hole for you to shove your cock into?"

"For the next 90 days, yeah."

He started to push into my pussy and I cringed. I was dry and raw and not at all ready for a big cock at 8:00 in the morning.

"Ow, ow, ow! Wait, Dillon, I'm not ready! Please, ow, god, my pussy."

He pulled back. "Shit."

I took a breath. "Let me up, please. I wanna suck your cock. I do. I won't fight. Please, just not my pussy. It hurts so much."

He reached over me, still holding me down, and stuck his fingers into the margarine, taking a handful.

"Oh, god," I whispered.

I felt him smear the cold margarine across my pussy lips. I pinched my eyes shut for what was coming next. His thick cock pressed against my slit, and then he slid into me with ease, well lubricated with imitation butter spread. I moaned, breathing out. Dillon released my arm and grabbed hold of my hips, keeping me in place as he filled my pussy with his fat cock. He knew I wasn't going anywhere.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" he taunted. "Come on, you can say it. I know you like it."

"Yes," I said with an exhale, and I did like it. My pussy burned from all the abuse of his monster cock, but god, I still loved to be filled up. He was going nice and slow, letting my sore pussy adjust to his size. "Fuck."

"See?" he said, rubbing my back as his cock slowly slid out of me. "I can be gentle."

"So wrong," I whispered, exhaling as he slid his cock back in.

"Why's it wrong?" he asked.

"Cause. Just because."

"Right," he said, withdrawing and sliding back in. He flexed his cock inside, making my eyes flutter.

"God, I hate that it feels good," I said. "You're a terrible son for doing this to me."

"For making you like it?" he asked.

"Yes," I whispered. I spread my legs a little wider, my panties tight around my knees. "Just fuck me and leave me alone."

"You want me to fuck you?" he asked, thrusting into me a little harder.

I gulped. "No, but if you're going to fuck me, just do it hard."

"Do you want me to fuck you harder?" he asked, going deliberately slow. I did want him to fuck me harder, despite my aching pussy. I wanted to be fucked hard and deep.

"No," I lied. "I just want to get it over with."

"Get what over with?" he said. "I'm just getting started. When you get home from work, as soon as you walk through that door, I'm going to bend you over the sofa and fuck you again. And then you're going to make dinner. And as soon we're done eating, I'm going to fuck you on the floor. And once you're settled into bed, I'm going to come in and fuck you twice. I might even sleep in your bed."

"God..."

"And tomorrow morning..." he said, suddenly giving me a hard thrust that shoved me forward against the table. My arms flailed, knocking over the orange juice. I didn't even care. I just wanted him to do it again. "...tomorrow, I think I'll wake up early, jump in the shower with you and have you wash my cock before I fuck you in there."

He was moving faster, sawing that giant cock in and out of my slippery pussy. I was well oiled now, either from my wetness or from all the margarine, but whatever it was, his cock was pistoning in and out of me so fast the whole house was shaking... or maybe that was just the table. It was too hard to tell. I was delirious with pleasure. I couldn't even feel the soreness in my pussy anymore. I just wanted him to keep fucking me, and I was glad he was threatening to do it more. I felt like I had found a loophole, all the sex I could ever want, while none of the moral shame, because I was telling him I didn't want it.

"Fuck, you're going to make me cum," I whispered.

"I know I am," he said. "Yeah, you keep telling me how much you hate it, and you keep cumming. Fuck, you don't know what you want, do you?"

I bit my bottom lip and then screamed as an orgasm came over me. My feet were off the floor as he pounded into me, my panties ripping as I tried to spread my legs open wider and just take in as much of his cock as I could. I was thrashing from the intense pleasure, screaming and crying out for him to stop.

"Stop, oh, god! It's sensitive! Please, Dillon! Please, baby, give Mommy a little break."

He slowed his thrusts. I was panting to keep myself together. I lay there on the table, growing numb as his pace started to pick up again. I knew he was getting closer. God, more cum in me. What was I going to do if I got pregnant?

"Fuck," he mumbled. "I was going to try to pull out, but I don't think I can. Shit."

His cock burst like a dam, filling me with semen, just like last night, and I could do nothing to stop it. My pussy was drooling sperm as he kept thrusting. Why did it have to feel so good? I lay there on the table, well fucked as his cock slipped out of me. I didn't think I even had the energy to stand. I felt paralyzed from the pleasure.

"Oh, shit," Dillon said. "I'm going to miss my bus."

I heard him run down the hall only to appear a moment later, dressed, saying, "Bye, Mom," and vanishing. Once the door closed, I tried to pick myself up. I rolled over, my legs dangling off the table. Cum was everywhere, my thighs, my ass, my skirt. I stepped down, wobbly, and pulled up my panties, sealing the dripping pool of cum into my pussy. I tried to straighten my skirt out, but what was the point?

I drove to work feeling disheartened. I could pretty much count on getting more sex than I knew what to do with from now, at least for the next 90 days, if I really had the courage to kick my son out. My pussy was already feeling sore again from the hard fucking my son had given me.

"Late again!" my boss yelled.

I didn't even acknowledge him. I just went to work, taking orders, nodding at my sister when she asked me if everything was okay. I didn't want her to know what had happened, that I was now my son's sex doll, that he was fucking me on a whim, that my pussy was getting used and abused at will.

Around lunchtime, I picked up something from the kitchen and climbed into my car, sitting back in the seat, spreading my legs open and putting a cold soda can against my sore pussy, sighing. I couldn't eat. All my muscles were tired from sex and my stomach was in knots over all that had happened.

The passenger door suddenly opened and Jenny climbed in. "Hey."

"Hey," I said, sitting up. "What are you doing here? You're covering my lunch."

She shrugged. "I made the new girls cover both of us. How are you?"

"Fine."

"Yeah, right," Jenny said. "Come on, tell your little sister what's going on. I know something happened. It was Dillon again, wasn't it?"

"I don't want to talk about it," I said, taking the soda out from between my legs, cracking the lid and sipping. "It won't be a problem anymore."

"He fucked you, didn't he?" Jenny said.

"Huh?" I said, looking at her, gulping. "God, no, don't be disgusting. That's my son."

"Katie, you had a soda against your pussy."

"No, I didn't."

"You've got cum stains on the inside of your skirt and you smell like sex. Hell, even your messy hair says you've been fucked."

I looked down and put my face in my hands. "He fucked me three times."

"Three? Shit, it's only been 24 hours since we talked."

I looked up at her. "Jenny, it's serious. He just...took me last night, twice in a row. My pussy is so chaffed, and then this morning before work, he just bent me over the table and fucked the hell out of me."

"Wow," she said. "I'm jealous."

"That's my son, Jenny," I said sadly. "I didn't want him to do it. He raped me."

"Did you like it?"

"Of course I liked it, but I didn't want it."

"Well, if you liked it, it's not rape."

"That's not how the law works. And it's worse than that. He told me he's going to start fucking me whenever he wants, like, three or four times a day."

"Wow, I would love to get fucked three times a day."

"Jenny! Please, I need a sister, not a perverted friend."

"Okay, sorry, but this is what you kept saying you wanted. You wanted a man. You found one."

"My son isn't the man I wanted. It's sick. I mean, isn't it?"

"Well, I don't have a son, so I don't know, but I guess it's abnormal. You definitely can't tell anyone."

"I know, but aren't you grossed out?"

"Me? Um, hello? I've eaten your pussy and I'm your sister."

"That's not the same. We grew up together. We were just playing around. What he's doing to me is serious, permanent. He came in me, for god's sake. I'm probably pregnant."

"Oh."

"Yeah, see?"

"Here, hold on," she said, opening her handbag, pulling out a couple of pills. She handed them to me. "Take two. Same as Plan B."

"Birth control? I didn't know you were on that."

"I'm always ready to go, and it sounds like you should be too."

"I don't want to be though. I need help. I have to stop him. Here, look."

I spread my legs open, hitched up my skirt, and pulled my panties aside, showing my pussy lips. They were red and inflamed, still slick from the cum and margarine.

"Shit. He really fucked you, didn't he? That's just from three times?"

"It's his cock, Jenny. I told you, he's huge. He's fucking the stuffing out of me."

"Let me feel."

Jenny reached for my pussy, touching it. She slipped a couple fingers inside.

"Jenny..."

She pulled them back and suddenly stuck them in her mouth, sucking. "Mmm, is that margarine?"

"That's my son's cum! ...With margarine, yes. I was dry this morning."

She laughed. "I've never been buttered before I was spread."

I pushed my skirt back down. "What do I do? I can't keep up with him. I'm telling you, I need help. It's not right having sex with him, and my pussy can't take it."

"Okay, tell you what," Jenny said. "If he's forcing you, I'll stay over for the night, protect you from the big, bad cock."

"Really?" I said hopefully. "You wouldn't mind?"

"Nah, it'll be fun."

"Okay, but be careful around Dillon. He might fuck you next."

"Oh, I can handle him."

I was a little nervous when I came home. Jenny was following me in her car. But I wanted to go upstairs first and tell Dillon she would be staying the night. I was hoping to trick my sister into staying for the rest of the week, just until Dillon's craving for my pussy calmed down.

"Dillon?" I said, knocking on his bedroom door. I opened it and stepped in.

"Hey, Mom," he said, looking up from his TV. "I was waiting for you."

He stood up and came toward me, wearing that smirk of his that told me he was ready to fuck me whether I wanted it or not.

"Hold on there," I said, swallowing nervously. "Jenny's here."

"Aunt Jenny?" he said, stopping in place.

"Yes. She's staying the night...in my room."

He folded his arms. "So that's how it is?"

"Don't try anything in front of her," I said sternly. "She doesn't know, and I don't want her to."

He laughed. "Okay, Mom. I'll be good, but when she goes home, I'm coming for your pussy."

I glared. "Dillon, I am not a sex slave. Don't treat me like one."

I stormed off, opening my apartment door, looking down the hall for Jenny. She arrived moments later, thankfully. Dillon was over my shoulder as she stepped in.

"Hi, Dillon."

"Hey, Aunt Jenny."

"How are you?" she asked.

"Good."

"How's school?"

"Great."

"Getting excited for college?"

"Sure."

"Well, you'll be the first in our family to actually do something with your life, so be proud of yourself."

"Hey," I said, "don't forget about me. I'm going to nursing school. I'm going to make a difference."

"Oh, sure you are."

Jenny and I set out to make dinner as Dillon stood around, talking to us. This was actually nice. For a few minutes, I actually forget that I was bent over this table this morning, getting my pussy reamed by my son. Of course, the tenderness between my legs was a constant reminder that this was a temporary ceasefire, that I would probably be back on this table by tomorrow, screaming while I got fucked like a whore. Maybe I could ask Jenny to move in.

Dinner passed with civility. I really thought having some interaction with someone other than me might set Dillon straight, let him know I had back up, that I was more than a wet hole.

Afterwards, we all settled down to watch some terrible family TV. I excused myself to pee and rub some Vagisil on my tender pussy. However, when I came back down the hall, I heard a conversation I did not like.

"I can't believe she told you about the vacuum," Dillon said.

"She tells me everything," Jenny said.

"Did she tell you anything else?

"There's more? Did you put your dick in the toaster too? Seek help, Dillon."

He laughed. "She really didn't say anything else?"

"She said your dick was big."

"Did she?"

"But she was probably exaggerating. Your mom has always been scared of sex. I'm sure all guys have big dicks to her."

"Do you want to see for yourself?"

"Gross, no thanks."

"What, are you scared of sex too?" Dillon said.

"Me? Never. I'm just worried you'll try to rape me like you did your mother."

"Ha! I knew she told you. I could tell the moment you came in."

"What kind of pervert has to fuck his own mother to get off? You should be ashamed of yourself."

"Don't believe everything she says. She loves it."

"Yeah, that's why she asked me stay here to protect her from you."

"And who's going to protect you from me?" he asked.

"Oh, little boy, you wouldn't know what to do with me."

"Please, you wouldn't know what to do with a cock in your cunt. I know you've been eating my mom's pussy for years."

"How the hell did you know about that?" Jenny demanded.

"I saw you two going at it when I was a kid. That's traumatizing to see on Christmas Eve when you're looking for Santa. You're just as bad as me, taking advantage of her."

"You're a pig, and you'd better not touch her again."

"You want me to stop?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Okay, ask me nicely."

"What do you mean?"

"Ask me nicely...after she goes to sleep."

I knew what that meant. I opened and closed the bathroom door for effect and then returned to the living room. They both acted like they hadn't spoke. I sat down and we watched the TV in silence. But I was worried now, for Jenny. Dillon might very well try to fuck her tonight. And worse, Jenny might let him. Maybe she thought she was trying to protect me, but I didn't want her to protect me by doing the very thing that had gotten me into this mess.

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