by Willailla ©
~"Mother, I want to..."~
--'The End', The Doors
"Stop it, Chad!" Wilma whispered hotly.
Chad was standing behind her in the kitchen. His arms around her narrow waist, he pulled her ass against his groin. She felt the moist, velvet soft warmth of his mouth on the nape of her neck. She could feel the hardness of his cock against the firm curve of her buttocks. This was a game that had gone to far. It had to stop.
"Stop it, Chad!" she whispered again, more hotly.
But his grip tightened. His tongue made a moist line up the side of her neck. She felt his teeth nip her earlobe lightly. She shivered as tingling sensations coursed her spine. Damnit! She felt like a puppet, and he was pulling all the right strings.
"Your father's in the next room." She exhaled all the words in one sharp gush; he could feel the sides of her breasts rise then fall against his bulging biceps.
Chad lifted his mouth from her neck where a moist, pale-brown curl clung to the skin.
"He's watching the ball game. He can't hear anything."
"Let me go, Chad! I mean it, now!"
Her small, soft hands found his and tried in vain to loosen their grip. Her ass ground against his erection as she tried to wriggle out of his grasp.
"Kiss me like last time, and I'll let you go," he said.
"Noooaah," she moaned. Arching her back, she strained against his grip, but he was too strong for her.
"Just one kiss, then I'll let you go, " he cajoled.
Why had she kissed him before? Now he expected it as a matter of course. She sighed.
He turned her so that her back was against the refrigerator. He lifted her slightly to her tiptoes. She closed her eyes. His mouth touched hers. She neither resisted nor responded. She remained outwardly aloof. His tongue parted her lips. She let it. His tongue entered her. She felt herself giving back...slightly. His hand pulled at her short skirt, drawing it up.
How far was he prepared to go? she wondered. How far was she?
"Honey, get me another beer," a voice called out from the living room. Where the hell's Chad; he's gonna miss the game if he doesn't get his butt back in here."
I'm coming, dad," Chad called out hoarsely. And he almost had been. He released his mother. She turned to the sink, away from him, where she had been grating carrots. Chad got a beer out of the frig and went into the living room.
* * *
Friday night was barbecue night. Out on the back lawn, porterhouse steaks were broiling on a gas grill, looked over by Chad's father who periodically basted the meat while downing an occasional beer replenished from an ice-filled tub.
"Damnit, don't use fork tines to turn'em, Bill," uncle Charlie, called out from the patio, where he was dancing with Chad's mother. "You'll let out all the juices. Shouldn't turn'em but once anyway."
A medley of oldies filled the star-filled night air: Rock Around the Clock; The Girl Can't Help It; La Bamba; Mixed with some slow numbers: Donna; True Love Ways; Teen Angel; etc.
Chad sat in the padded couch swing under and elm tree and watched the partying antics of his relatives and friends of the family while sipping on a beer uncle Charlie had smuggled to him.
There was plump aunt Alice, Charlie's wife, feet propped up on the lounger, sipping ice tea with a slice of lemon and a generous portion of Kentucky bourbon. His cousins, Jake and Carol, were on the patio dancing, also, with children of his father's truck-driving buddies: Bruce with his good-looking wife, Sheena; and David with his slender wife, Helen. All of whom were sitting around in lawn chairs, smoking and talking while waiting for their steaks to get done.
Chad wasn't sure how many beers he'd had, but enough, for things were beginning to turn fuzzy. Sound and sight were beginning to mesh uncontrollably in those crazy trackings that foretell drunkenness. He didn't feel sick, though. In fact he felt great.
His mother had her light-brown hair fixed up in a swirl at the back of her head. She was easily the best looking woman there. Petite, shapely. She was wearing an ankle length peasant dress that left her shoulders bared. Her full breasts jiggled provocatively under the thin fabric. A narrow elastic band held the dress up over her breasts. There was another band drawing in her waist. She was barefoot.
It was dark except for the flickering lights of several flambeaux stuck into the ground like spears. Cigars and cigarettes made their tiny meteoric flashes through drifting unctions of smoke. Words came and went without any discernible meaning.
Laughter would spill out, then die. The world was a meaningless jumble of nonsense.
At some point, Chad thought he saw uncle Charlie palm his mother's bare tit, but he couldn't be sure. Maybe a trick of light. They were dancing slow and close. Uncle Charlie had his hands on her ass, pulling her to him. They moved back into the shadows of a dogwood next to the patio. Were they kissing? Chad grew hot, jealousy singed him. Then there was anger: Him? Why not me?
There was a space of time when he must have dozed, for suddenly he was aware of someone sitting in the swing next to him. A warm thigh touched his. A cool hand touched his cheek. He smelled talc and whiskey and the faint fragrance of skin cream, perfume, all swirled deliciously together.
Some of the party--the men--had moved downstairs to the rec room to watch a ball game. Aunt Alice was snoring on the lounger. Sheena and Helen were sitting at the picnic table still eating. His two cousins were out of sight, probably playing video games in the living room with the other kids.
"I see Charlie's been up to his old tricks," his mother said, studying him. She brushed at a lock of hair that curled over his forehead. "He gets a kick out of getting you drunk. I'm going to have to get on him about this."
Sheena and Helen chuckled. "That's Charlie for you, Wilma," Sheena said.
"C'mon," she said. nudging him up. "I'd better get you to bed."
She put his arm around her shoulders and guided him toward the patio doors. Dozens of moths circled the outdoor light. She waved them from her face and hair as she helped her tottering son inside. In the dining room, she made a left through the kitchen, avoiding the living room where she could hear the buzzing, binging sounds of a video game in progress. In the hallway, leading to the bedrooms, male laughter and muffled conversation reverberated up the basement steps off the laundry room.
When she had Chad in his darkened bedroom, she started to flick on the light switch, but as she did so he suddenly pushed her up against the wall holding her by her wrists and began kissing her hungrily on the neck and shoulders.
"Chad, stop it," she cried out softly. "You're drunk."
"Mother, I want to..." he muttered.
She heard the word that he whispered in her ear.
Before she could stop him, he released her wrists and jerked her dress completely down where it piled on the floor around her ankles. She was naked but for a pair of bikini panties. She made tiny shrieking sounds in her throat as he dragged her suddenly toward his unmade bed. They stumbled together and fell onto it.
Clumsily, he crawled on top of her grabbing her wrists and forcing them above her head. Her gold watch band snapped and fell to the rug. He kissed her face frantically as she jerked her body beneath him in a futile attempt to buck him off. In time she exhausted herself.
Too weak to resist, she lay passively beneath him as he began to kiss her breasts, licking and sucking on the nipples, which began to grow firmer with each flick of his tongue.
"Stop," she moaned. "Someone might come."
He reached down into her panties. She could feel the palm of his hand brush the hairs of her cunt. Then she gasped sharply as his fingers found her clit. Delicious sensations suddenly raced through her. Her body tensed with ecstasy.
He stood up by the side of the bed and quickly took off his clothes.
"No," she whispered, but it was futile. She no longer wanted him to stop.
He pulled her panties off. She lay naked before him. She stared at his cock in the semi-darkness. It seemed huge.
The bedroom door was open. At any moment someone might come.
He positioned his youthful, hard-muscled body over her. She moved her legs apart, then bended them. She took his cock in her hand and held it against her cunt.
For a moment there was breathless anticipation, then she felt his cockhead begin to slide into her. She was wet and took all of him. She wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him deeper into her, holding him in her. She pulled his face down to hers, forced her tongue into his mouth, sucking it as deeply into her throat as she could. She was wild with sensations. She flexed her cunt muscles, milking him. She wanted his cum in her, filling her. He tensed; his muscles grew as taut as steel. He began ramming his hips into her hard and fast. His cock spewing his cum into her with that gushing, intense force only the young can muster up. Then they lay still together; their sticky bodies locked together.
And from the living room came the buzz-bing sounds of a video game.
"C'mon! c'mon!" Carol was crying out. "Let me have it! My turn now. Give it to me! Give it to me! Give it to me!"
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