Autism Blues

After much digging around, a pharmaceutical company called Hills Pharma caught Tom's eye. The company was in the process of developing a sexual stimulant. The drug was called Aceon, and was to be the next-generation viagra-like drug. Not only did it stimulate blood flow to the penis, it also stimulated libidinal hormone activity. It was a dream come true for Tom. Both problems solved with one little pill. But the FDA had banned Aceon from further research during its trail period, claiming the drug would be a danger to society. Basically, it had the potential to turn people with already high sex drives into sex maniacs. The fear was that sex crime would increase tenfold should Aceon ever hit the street.

But Tom would not be deterred. He had the contacts and financial clout to turn dreams into reality. Money talked. He had handed over several million pound out his own pocket to Hills Pharma so they would continue developing Aceon. But no longer for the mainstream – Tom wanted the drug exclusively for himself. After six months, the product was ready for distribution, and Tom had demanded a suitcase full per month.

Once a month, Chilvers took a trip to Hills Pharma headquarters and brought back a suitcase full of the little pink pill. It had worked wonders for Tom. He had an almost constant hard-on and a desire to fuck all day long. He gave it out like sweets to his little playthings, those beautiful woman who sauntered around his mansion all day, ready at his beck and call. They were all insatiable, fucking like deranged rabbits morning, noon and night. Tom fucked so much he even lost a little weight. It went on for years, an almost constant orgy in which Tom lived out every sordid fantasy with some of the most desirable women in the world.

But then Trevor Slogan had brought something to his attention, a woman by he name of Angela Lockwood. And Tom's desires had been given an extras spice.

Since Tom had been abusing Aceon, his mind had been consumed with a voyeuristic desire to see a teenage lad fuck his mother. It seemed that fucking beautiful women on a daily basis was becoming monotonous and boring, and Tom's fancies were being drawn to more taboo acts of sexuality.

Again, Tom used his financial clout to get the ball rolling. He had Chilvers approach every probation worker, counsellor and social worker and put them on his payroll, paying them a modest salary, cash in hand, to keep their ears to the ground and to report back to him any potential incest cases they encountered during their work. Giving them an extra cash incentive if any reported back a genuine case of mother-son incest for Tom to explore. Some had taken Tom up on the offer whereas others had refused. Fortunately for Tom, Trevor Slogan had jumped at the chance of a wage subsidy by breaking his ethical vow of confidentiality.

Two weeks after Tom had paid Trevor for his services, he had reported back to Chilvers claiming he had what Tom desired. Tom had invited Trevor to his own personal bar inside the mansion to discuses Trevor's findings. It was video footage stored on his phone of a mother and her young son that Trevor had produced. It had captivated Tom like nothing else before. He had found what he was looking for. Trevor explained in great detail the current situation that Angela and her son were in. The lack of money, the groping strangers, the arrest, the court appearance, the moving house and Angela's willingness to let her son use her body in order to stop him committing sex crimes. Tom had taken his time, decided on his plan of action, and that plan had led here, to today, as Tom made his way to the bar, where Angela was awaiting his arrival.

When Tom opened the door to the barroom and saw Angie sitting there on a barstool with a champagne flute in her delicate hand, his heart fluttered in his chest. Never before had he felt such anticipation, such excitement by another person's presence. The moment Tom laid eyes on Angela his mind was transported back to a week ago, to the video Trevor Slogan had brought to him. It had been the most erotic thing Tom had ever seen. It had captivated him, fascinated him – the way she had pulled down the straps of her bra and tank top, scooped out a large tit and dangled the teat over her son's face, caressed his lips with the nipple, before coaxing it into his mouth. Then her hand smoothing over the boy's chest, dropping down and rubbing his tummy for a moment before sinking into his underpants. Her hand movements had been clear inside her son's underpants. Bobbing up and down, gentle but firm, fondling his balls and stroking him to orgasm as he drew on the nub of her tit.

Tom's cock sprang to life like a jack-in-the-box at the memory. He realised he would go to any lengths necessary to see this woman and her son fuck. She wasn't drop-dead gorgeous like the girls Tom at his disposal inside his mansion, but she was a stunner. She had that homely, motherly look about her. Her feet and legs were bare, the pale skin shimmering in the light. Her dress was tight, showing her motherly curves and erotic bumps. Tom's cock twitched.

Tom cleared his throat to announce his presence.

Angie turned on her stool and acknowledged Tom. "Hi!" came the spirited greeting that was higher-pitched than she intended. She had been drinking champagne and was now a little tipsy

"Ah, Ms Lockwood," Tom replied, his eyes roaming over her figure. "I see you've been sampling the champagne."

Chilvers interjected. "Yes, I'm afraid I'm to blame for that. She was frightfully nervous about meeting you after your physician looked her over, so I suggested she have a small drink to calm her nerves."

"That's quite alright," Tom smiled. "So, you've met my physician – Dr Squires. I trust he checked you over, gave you good advice."

Again, like everything else in this charade, the doctor was also a fake. It was an elaborate ruse, a means to get the Aceon into Angie's possession and hopefully persuade her to take it at some point in the future.

Angie hiccupped before she spoke. "Yes, he was very nice. Gave me a good bill of health. Though he says I am to try to relax more. Not get so stressed out and drink a little less alcohol. He gave me these. Suggested I take one every now and then, just to help me relax." Angie took a bottle of pink pills from her pocket, flashed them at Tom and put them back in her pocket.

Dr Squires had prescribed her the Aceon, just as Tom had ordered, on the pretence of it being a mild sedative. The prospect of Angie fucking her son like a dog in heat high on Aceon made his head swoon with delight. It would be a monumental event, one Tom would never forget.

"You take his advice. He's a top doctor," Tom said. Then to Chilvers, "I wish to speak with Ms Lockwood alone."

Chilvers left the room.

Angie watched Tom waddle towards her before perching his large buttocks upon a barstool. She couldn't believe how fat he was. He wore a bathrobe that was straining at the front, looking fit to burst.

"Please. Call me Angela," she said, extending her hand.

Even as he shook her hand, he felt enamoured by it. The skin was hot and moist, its palm calloused from labour, yet the top elegant, graceful, alabaster-white.

"It's a pleasure, Angela. So glad you could make it. I've heard lots about you, and would very much like to get to know you. Help you in anyway I can."

Biting into her bottom lip, Angela's face wore an expression of guilt. She wondered if Tom had heard about her carnal activities with her son. Would he broach the subject if he had? Her embarrassment would be so acute that she felt she would get up and walk out if he did.

"Do you help people often? Have you helped others, before me?"

"Yes," he lied. "I have no friends. No immediate family. My existence is unfulfilling and lonely. So I like to help people. It gives me a sense of worth, a reason to live. Besides which it makes me happy. I'm what you would call a philanthropist. I use my money to help others."

"Why help me though?"

"Let's just say your plight is one close to my own heart. I had a autistic son, many years ago," he lied.

"But you said you had no immediate family."

"He's dead now."

"Oh. I am sorry."

Looking forlorn, Tom sighed then changed the subject. "I take it Chilvers has already compensated you for the inconvenience you suffered at the hands of Trevor Slogan?"

"Yes. Ten thousand pound," she replied, blushing.

"I feel partly responsible for what happened with Trevor Slogan. Chilvers informed me as to what happened with Trevor while you were visiting Dr Squires. I can't apologise enough. Is ten thousand sufficient, or do you need more?"

"More than enough. It's more than I'll earn in a whole year at the supermarket."

"Trevor is on my payroll. I employ him to bring people like you to my attention. He was only supposed to invite you to my mansion. Not blackmail you."

"It's okay, really. I quite enjoyed it actually," she giggled. "I've not had a man..." Angie cut the sentence off short, realising she was a little merry from the champagne and becoming loose-lipped.

"I'm led to believe there is also a matter of a certain incriminating video he has in his possession."

"Oh, yes. I'd forgotten about that," she replied, biting into her bottom lip as worry settled over her like an ominous black cloud.

"Tell me – and I want you to be totally honest with me – how's your financial situation?"

This question only served to darken her mood. "Not good I'm afraid. I'm in terrible debt. And I'm behind with my rent. It's only a matter of time before my landlord has me evicted. And my car's on its last legs."

Tom thought for a moment. "I'd like to make a proposition. I'd like to offer you a home; a home that I own. And let you and your son live there rent free. It's situated a few miles away from your current home, but if I offered you a new car into the deal, then travel to and from work wouldn't be a problem. What do you say?"

Completely taken aback by the offer, Angie just stared at Tom, mouth gaping. "I-I-I...I don't know what to say."

"You'd make me a very happy man if you said yes."

"Surely you'll want me to pay something towards rent. And you must want something in return for all this generosity. Surely."

"Please. All I ask is that you keep in touch with me. I'll give you my email address. Let me know how things are going. More importantly, if you should need anything – and I mean anything – don't hesitate to ask. I'll be happy to help. As for rent, once you've cleared your debts, we'll talk about rent. But for the time being I don't want a penny from you."

Her stomach was turning, and her head was spinning with excitement. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. It must be a joke. Either that or she was dreaming. It was too good to be true. There had to be some catch somewhere that Tom was not telling her about. But she could not turn down the offer or question his integrity. This was the answer to all her problems. And the last thing she wanted to do was offend the man, the man that just handed her a new life, a much better life, on a plate.

Tom added, "Also I'd like Chilvers to pop in for a chat with you once a fortnight – at your convenience of course – just to make sure you're okay. It would put my mind at ease knowing that Chilvers has seen first hand that things have improved for you and your son."

"I still don't know what to say," Angie muttered, her eyes glazing over with tears of joy.

"Just say yes. Then we can make our way to the dining room and get the chef to whip us up some food. I'm famished. And another bottle or two of champagne wouldn't go a miss either."

"Yes," she said finally. "I'll take you up on your very generous offer. Thank you."

Holding his glass aloft, Tom said, "Join me in a toast; to a better life for you and your son. And may the rest of your days be carefree and filled with joy."

***

Three hours later, Angie was back in Chilvers car on her way home. She was blind drunk having polished off God knows how many bottles of the finest champagne over a meal of delicacies and rich food. She and Tom had had a great time. They had chatted throughout the entire meal, laughing and joking and sharing tales of life experiences. Tom was a hell of a guy and had lived a life full of sadness, rejection and abuse. But it was his past traumas that had made him the man he was now. The carefree philanthropist who had just saved her life in more ways than one.

Angie was so drunk when she arrived home Chilvers had to escort her to the door and help her into the house. She passed out on the couch with a smile on her face and an optimistic outlook for the future.

When she awoke some time later her son was sitting at the end of the couch. He had placed her bare feet upon his lap, right next to his cock that was protruding from his pants hard and erect. He was stroking his erection with his left hand while his right hand was up Angie's dress fingering her pussy. Her cunt was sloppy-wet and it made a squelching sound every time Connor thrust his finger into her tight depths. Angie lifted her right foot and grazed the heel of her foot over her son's exposed bellend as he continued to pump his shaft in his fist. His hand movements grew frantic, fingering her hot cunt hard and fast. When she began to rub the sole of her foot over his cock-head his body tensed and he coated her foot with sticky cum.

They said nothing after that. Just sat watching TV as though nothing out the ordinary had happened. Connor's cock remained protruding from his pants and grew flaccid. The rope of cum on Angie's foot trickled onto his lap. Connor's hand rested on her thigh, his middle finger glistering with his mother's juices.

Angie was lost in deep thought, recalling the events of the day. She was sure it was all too good to be true, and was convincing herself that Tom would fail to make good of his promise. But what if it did happen, and the following day she and her son would be moving? Connor would totally freak. He had never dealt well with big life changes, and moving house on the spur of the moment would put him completely out of joint. Angie felt an anxiety attack coming on. She jumped to her feet and headed for the kitchen. She needed booze to clam her nerves.

Reaching for the bottle of wine, she hesitated, recalling how much booze she had drunk already. Tom's physician, Dr Squires, had told her to cut back on the drink, telling her that alcohol dependency could be a real possibility should she continue to drink on a daily basis. Then she remembered the pills he had prescribed her. Taking the bottle from her pocket, she swallowed the tiny pink pill. Feeling her head still swooning, she decided to lie down in bed for a while and fell back to sleep.

When she awoke some time later, she felt rather peculiar. Her pussy was throbbing and soaking wet, and she surmised that Connor must have been playing with her whilst she slept. She also felt hot and sweaty so decided to take a shower.

Slipping out of her dress, she padded through to the bathroom and hopped into the shower.

As the spray of hot water from the showerhead hit her body, a strange tingling sensation exploded over the surface of her flesh, a warm heat radiating throughout her body. Hit with a feeling of euphoria that seemed to consume her entire being, she realised that something was seriously amiss. When she took the flannel and washed between her legs, something extraordinary happened: she was overcome by a feeling of sheer bliss – sheer sexual bliss. Her fingers sank deep into her pussy and frantic fingers mauled her nipples. She was a wild beast consumed by lust, head spinning with desire, her hands ravishing her body.

At this point Angie slipped into a stupor: a haze of intense sexual energy enveloped her entirely, evoking thoughts, feelings and desires clouding her consciousness. She was teetering on the edge of sexual meltdown. The sound of the water splashing seemed far off and faint. Almost delirious, her head swam with images of naked men and boys with large pricks firm and hard, bobbing to the rhythm of their pulse, running their fingers over the smooth heads of their magnificent cocks inviting her to suck them. Then she imagined herself giving herself over to them and performing on them the most perverse and devious sexual acts conceivable.

Angie stumbled out the shower, her hand between her legs rubbing her clit fast and frantic. Soaking wet, she stumbled out the bathroom and into her bedroom, leaving a trail of water in her path. Her gaze darted around the room, confused, wondering what to do next. But she was losing control, slipping further into oblivion, almost running on instinct, her emotions dictating her actions.

It was like her body was alive with exotic sensations. A constant orgasm washed over her, subtle but effective, making her body sizzle with a frisson of sexual excitement. She had an intense tingling in her clitoris and her vagina radiated warmth and desire. Her breathing was ragged and her body was damp with water and perspiration. She squeezed a nipple and felt her body respond. An intense tingling sensation exploded at the point of contact, spreading out all over he body and making her gasp. Every nerve ending in her body zinged on contact. Her pussy was soaking, the juices trickling down her leg.

She grabbed her vibrator from the dresser, and slid into bed. The cool of the sheets brushing her body heightened her arousal to the max, making her squirm and writhe on the bed. She was on the brink of a fierce orgasm and she had barely touched herself yet. The vibrator was set to low. She knew in her current state anything more would most likely blow her head off.

Leaning back on the pillows, she dropped the toy to her side for a moment as she raised her hands to her breasts and cupped them, twiddling the stiff nubs for a moment, relishing the tingling sensation emanating throughout her body. Keeping one hand on her breast, the other reached for the vibrator and tentatively pressed it against her clit. Her orgasm was immediate and intense. Fireworks went off behind her tightly clenched eyelids. She grunted in her throat as her pussy pulsed. Her body bucked and convulsed as she rode out the most intense orgasm racked her body. It seemed to go on forever. She screamed in abandonment as it began to subside, exhausted and shocked by its sheer intensity.

As she returned to her constant state of arousal, her mind was consumed with thoughts of her son. She thought about his cock, his beautiful cock – so soft and smooth and virile with youth. She thought of his tongue and fingers caressing her body, sending frissons of pleasure radiating through her body. Then her fingers were tweaking her nipples, but in her mind they were not her fingers but her son's teeth nibbling on her stiff teats, taking her to the edge where pain and pleasure blurred. Her hand stroked up her leg and strummed her clit like a guitar string, but in her mind's eye it was her son's hand plucking the nub of her clit. Then her fingers sunk into her sloppy pussy, and she imagined it was Connor's cock inside her, sliding deep into her body, stretching her as he thrust himself back and forth again and again. Harder. Faster. Angie pulled her knees wide to the sides and let another earth-shattering orgasm take hold, arching her back and screaming as her flailing body squirmed and writhed all over the bed.

Sighing, she sat up in bed. Her state of arousal persisted, but it had levelled off ever so slightly. Her body still tingled with delight, but she felt that she had regained some degree of composure. Yet her thoughts were still consumed by a longing for her son's body. A yearning for her boy's cock so strong that she could almost feel it in her mouth already. She had to taste that young sausage. Sliding out of bed, she made her way downstairs to where her son was waiting unaware he was about to experience his first blowjob.