DQ Ch. 01: Losing Control with Mom

Dad just lost it when Mom started to reach for my dick through my boxer shorts. He started yelling and making threats about what he would do if we wouldn't stop. Mom tried to explain that this wasn't her, but she couldn't get across. Mid-way to reaching my throbbing erection, Mom's hands hesitated. Then, abruptly, she got up from her knees, picked up the ball of socks, walked to Dad, and tried to force it in his mouth to silence him.

"Honey," Mom whimpered, "this is not me, I don't want to do this. Oh my..." Dad tried to move his head but it suddenly froze, so that Mom and I watched as her hands purposefully pushed the socks in Dad's mouth. All we heard now was a muffled grumbling.

"Stop. Stop. Stop," the man said. "This is getting a bit too non-consensual for my liking. What are they doing? What am I doing to them? I am ruining my characters! Traumatizing them!"

The woman just shrugged her shoulders. "Don't be so sensitive. It's just a story. Yeah, I just said that these characters are real to a certain degree. But then again, they are also just characters in a rather unbalanced narrative."

The man shook his head. We are just characters in a narrative too, but I am awfully glad that I am not forced to jerk off my son. Can I start over, please?"

These words seemed to appeal to the woman, who leaned back and thought it over. "No, that would take too long. Perhaps we could change their mood a bit? Make it easier on them?"

'I'll do that, at least!"

Once Dad was silenced, his body seemed to get more relaxed. And as it did, apparently, so did his mind. The grumbling quickly ceased, even when Mom bent over and started to move the couch a bit so that Dad would have an unobstructed view of what she would do to me. Mom just kept whispering: "Oh no, oh no." She could predict perfectly what her body was up to and she was afraid of the boundaries it would cross.

In myself, I felt a change happening. Even though my body was not in my control, I was not separated from its affects. All my muscles were relaxed, and gave me the feeling as if I had just left a sauna. My raging dick, however, sent pangs of horniness through me, and this started to mess with my thoughts. I felt that I really needed relief, even though I simultaneously felt tremendous shame for being exposed like this to Mom and Dad. It was as if my head tried to resist lust, while my body had already been seduced.

When Mom sat down next to me on the couch, I saw in her eyes that similar things were happening to her. Although her general expression was still frightful, her eyes looked a bit dazed, as her body probably sent signals to her mind to relax. Her left hand was placed reassuringly on my knee, which immediately made my dick twitch. Her other started to pet my back under my shirt. If I hadn't known that this was beyond Mom's control, I would have called it a loving touch. Her fingers gently massaged me as her hand moved up my spine.

We had not been this close for ages, and I remembered, in a flash, how Mom used to care for me when I was younger. We had cuddled a lot. All this changed when Mom had thought it was time for me to become a man, and when she had started to command me around like she did with Dad. Then, I had been constantly running errands for her, while I never managed to deserve her love fully again. There was always something about which she would complain.

I could not see Mom's face, and I tried not to look at it either, as it would probably show an appalled expression at what we were doing against our wills. Meanwhile, what I could see was Dad's gaze, just lingering on us, with flickering anger that abode then and again as he became more relaxed. My own thought became more cloudy, and only now and then a thought popped up screaming what the hell is happening ?

Mom's right hand started to crawl up my left leg, and I watched it in fear as it approached my boxer shorts. Her bracelets felt cold on the skin of my leg and it gave me goosebumps. The closer she got to my cock, the harder I had to fight the lust that came shooting up in warm gushes from my stomach. I noticed that I started to pant, even though I really did not want Mom to touch me there. How could I ever look at myself in the mirror if my own mother had touched my penis? If I had enjoyed it?

"Oh God, oh God..." I heard Mom's voice close to my ear as she probably also saw what she was about to do. "Mark, I am sorry... I do not know what is happening. Oh God..."

Her fingers slipped into the leg of my boxers, and she had to push her elbow forward a bit to make the right angle. It looked as if she was reaching for a piece of garment that had fallen under the closet, but instead, Mom was going to reach for my cock. "Mom, I do not want this..." I said, more hoping to ease my guilt than to think that I could stop her. By now, I could no longer honestly say that I had not started to want it. To feel a hand on my dick. To relieve my urge that was building up and making me sweat.

"I know, baby. I do not know what is going on, but we will get through this together..." Even though Mom still protested, her voice had become more lush in my ear. She spoke softly, so soft that Dad would probably not hear her from where he was sitting.

I gasped as I felt how the tips of Momś fingers found their way through my pubic hairs. It tingled as she brushed through them, towards the shaft of my dick. I gasped as Mom caught the base of my cock between her index finger and thumb. All that I was aware of when she did was the feeling of those two fingers on my penis: my attention completely shifted away from what I saw or where we were.

It felt so extremely intense, and it was as if my lust was multiplied by a factor ten. I gasped again. My Mom's fingers felt slightly cool against the warm skin of my dick. Their touch was so different from the hands of my ex, who had often given me hand jobs. Mom's hands were larger, warmer, more of a real woman than of a girl.

Mom must have mistaken my gasping for a sob, as she whispered: "I am so sorry, baby, I do not want this either." But her hands thought otherwise, and wiggled to free my cock that was pressing hard against a fold in my boxer shorts. It jumped loose, so that my cock was now standing upright in my underwear, like a giant, obscene pole. I notice that I was already staining my grey boxer shorts with precum and I just hoped so that Mom would not see it.

But even if she had not seen it, she would soon feel my sticky juices on her hand. Her hand moved up my cock, her fingers trailing its down side, until she reached the elastic tissue of my frenulum. As her index finger started to make small circles, that made me gasp for air again and again, her other fingers slowly closed around the shaft of my cock. I could feel precum gush out of the tip of my penis and by now it was sure to be all over Mom's hand.

"Oh, no. Oh, no," Mom just kept repeating, making the warm air of her breath tingled against my earlobe. The complete relaxation of my body made me feel very confused. I was disgusted by what Mom was doing to me - but I did not feel disgusted, I felt relaxed and super horny. I was trying my best to ignore what was happening, but it was impossible to ignore the fact that my own Mom now had my cock inside of her hand.

Before long, Mom formed an 'o' of her finger and thumb, and slowly, very slowly, started to pull my foreskin down and up. "Oh, baby, I am so, so sorry..." Mom whispered, but it almost sounded erotic as close as she was to my ear. Whenever Mom would pull down as far as she could, rushes of blood would shoot through my cock, making it ever harder. Then, as she returned her hand upwards, and pulled my skin just over the tip of my cock, I felt my body shudder in anticipation of the joy of the following movement.

I tried hard not to look at Dad, who had a clear view of how Mom's hand was pulling me off inside of my boxer's. But when I did glance at him, I saw that the anger was gone, and a certain look of drowsy concern was visible on his face. As Mom started pacing up her tempo, and as her other hand moved out of my shirt and into my hair, where she gently massaged the skin of my head, I felt my dick grow to a size it had never had before. It felt like it was about to burst. My body responded, somehow, to Dad being forced to watch his wife please me like this, and I had to fight hard against the most awful thoughts. I just hoped, I really, really hoped, that the spell would break soon, though I did not know how we would ever be a normal family again after this.

Mom was now making quick paced movements, and I saw the contours of her hand in my underwear. Every time she moved her hand up, a bit of the elastic band was lifted and I could actually see her hand itself. As she paced up, I heard her anniversary bracelets tingle. Their cold steel chinked against my groins every time she pulled down, and they jingled softly when she pulled up. Dad just sat there, listening to the wet sounds of Mom's hands on my cock, and the usually joyful tingling of her bracelets, that were connected to so many of my childhood memories, but that now accompanied a tragic deed of incest. The sound of it appeared to turn my body on even further, and I felt my balls cringe in anticipation of shooting a massive load inside of my boxer shorts. Mom, who had always taken care of me, was taking care of me once again...

"Mom, I am trying to hold it, but... Ah... I am afraid... That I..." I cried, and even though I was shamefully aware that my body was enjoying Mom's treatment, I was still resisting with what little mental effort I had left.

"Oh, baby, oh, no..." Mom had been saying little of more intelligence these past minutes, and at this dramatic stage she did not seem able to add something more than: "Hold it, please. Do not... come... because of me..."

As I was sure that I could no longer hold it, images flashed before my eyes. My friends laughing when this secret would come out. Me admitting full of shame to future girlfriends what had happened on this fateful day. The realization that my Mom would have made me come... But no further effort was required to hold back for now, as Mom's grip suddenly loosened, as she wrung her hand out of my boxer shorts and stood up. Was it over? Had I been spared the utmost shame?

My relief was short lived. Mom immediately dropped to her knees, and started tugging at my boxers. She looked so matter-of-factly, with her sleeves rolled up, as if she was busy preparing a meal, but her face showed confusion. I could not stop myself from once more lifting my ass a bit, so that Mom could pull my boxers off in a single movement. My dick sprang free, right in front of her face, with her blue eyes looking at shock at the size of my tool. Probably, it was even bigger than it had felt. It was swollen to its max, slightly red, and completely coated in my juices.

It felt incredibly intense when Mom's shoulders bumped into my knees, and I felt the cotton of her blouse. Feeling her like this, and seeing her face hovering right behind my cock, made that I start to pant again out of excitement. My body was sending signals of intense pleasure to me, and I actually had to make an effort to feel appalled, which stressed me out, as this was, after all, my own Mom that I was feeling excited about.

Mom's shoulders moved forwards, as to bring her face to the tip of my penis. With the limited room for movement she still had, she tried to force her face to look away, but it seemed that even her neck was now under control of the magic that had seized us. Therefore, I watched as Mom's head closely approached my swollen dick, with her face twitching in looks of shock and submission. Mom, too, was probably being influenced by the state of her body, as she no longer screamed, or yelled in protest. She merely kept her lips tightly close as her shoulder had her bent completely towards my dick, her son's.

The moment Mom's lips touched my dick, I moaned. It felt soft and warm, and I felt how her face was being pushed forward with quite a bit of force, so that my cock pressed hard against her wet lips. Mom made sounds of disapproval as she winced. She even tried to turn her head a bit, but the result was only that my cock's tip trailed her face and cheeks, so that soon her face was glistening with my precum that was produced in large quantities. Her soft cheeks were pliant as my cock pressed against them. I could not resist moaning.

Perhaps whatever controlled us discovered that there was no way to force Mom to take my dick in her mouth, as, to my relief, Mom's body moved backwards again. A string of precum vibrated between her lips and my cock, as a spider's web in the dew. Soon it snapped, and it landed on her chin. But if Mom and I had expected that we would be safe now, we were wrong. Mom's body wiggled around, as her hand started to now take off her new stockings.

She leaned forward to do this, so that her face was pressed against my groins, and my balls disappeared in her hair. My sticky cock left spatters of precum in Mom's voluminous amount of brown hair. Without standing up, she managed to take off the stockings, and hold them if front of her, as she moved backwards again. She wrapped one of her hands in the soft, silky fabric of the nylon stockings, and then, with hand covered, continued to jerk me off.

The fabric felt extremely supple around my dick, and by now I had a hard time to think straight anymore. The pressure just kept on building. I saw that Dad's eyes had widened when Mom started to use her stockings as a piece of cloth for me to come in, perhaps because he had been scolded earlier for even dropping a small piece of cake next to it. Meanwhile Mom's hand went faster and faster, accompanied by the familiar shaking of her bracelets, and her body did this in such an obvious fashion that it almost was as if she were doing a household chore rather than jacking her own son off.

"We are ruining them..." Mom managed to complain between gulps for air, and she looked concerned at a new spurt of juice that ran from the tip of my penis onto the black fabric of the stockings, causing a white stain. "They... were... just... new!" Something in Mom's voice changed, as she started to pant slightly do the effort of her hand job.

As she looked up, I saw a similar drowsiness in Mom's eyes as I had seen earlier in Dad's. She remained silent for a while, as her eyes locked themselves intensely to mine, making me feel nervous, and very horny at the same time. I started to notice that Mom's breasts in her blouse shook under the movement she was making with her hand. My body felt like it was on fire now, and I simply could not avert my eyes, even though I knew that Mom was watching me. In response, Mom's hand only went faster and faster, the fabric nearly got drenched with my fluids.

"Don't... do... this... baby... Hold... it..." Mom managed to utter, but she out of breath. "Don't... come... please..."

"I am trying, Mom!" My voice's pitch went up as I tried to hold it back.

Then, I couldn't stop it any more. I moaned loudly as several strands of sperm erupted from me. My load just escaped past the fabric that Mom had wrapped around my dick, and after a short parabola flight, it landed on her hands and on the nylon stockings with an audible splatter, as it was a heavy load. Mom did not stop pumping, and even though I thought that this could possibly have been all, another strand of cum followed. I saw that my mother looked at it with her eyes widening, shocked by the quantity of sperm that she had milked from my dick. Although she was definitely more relaxed than earlier, she still looked at my cock with abhorrence.

Her hands immediately went busy to use the fabric of Mom's new stockings to clean my dick. The sperm hardly stuck to the fabric, so Mom's hands had to mostly fold the stocking to keep it contained in them. There were white spotted stains all over them. As there was perhaps nothing to say about what occurred, Mom kept silent again, and all I heard was her soft panting due to the effort of giving me a hand job.

After she had made a sort of ball from the stained stockings, Mom suddenly rose. She turned to Dad. "No... You wouldn't..." I managed to remark, catching my breath again. But Mom did. She threw the dirty stockings in his direction, and they landed half over his shoulders, so that Dad was now covered with the evidence of Mom and mine horrible incestual deed. Dad remained drowsy, and appeared to completely accept the current state of affairs in which he had been turned into our dirty laundry bin.

"I... am... sorry... Mark..." Mom nearly cried.

"My, oh, my..." the woman remarked as the man lowered his pen for a while to think. "And then to imagine that you were the one who felt pity for these characters earlier! How are you going to end this story now?"

The man rolled the pen through his fingers. "I don't know... I got carried away, I must admit. When I could see how far they would go... What forces I could unleash... Let's just leave at this, OK? Enough playing around. They have lowered themselves enough."

But the woman grabbed his arm, to keep him sitting. "Let's just see how far we can go, OK? Now that we have unleashed all this? Perhaps we can get lower?" Her eyes flickered with enthusiasm.

"How are you going to do that?" the man allowed her to keep him seated, but his doubt had not yet been removed. "The poor boy has just come half a bucket of sperm. Unless you want to drain him dry, there is no way he can go again..."

"We need to give him some supplies... Can I, finally, take over from you?"

The man looked defeated and handed her the pen.

As the woman started writing again, the man looked at the text over her shoulder. At what he saw, he just shook his head, but he did not manage to look away, let alone walk away from the story they were writing.

Mom stood for a while looking at Dad, who obediently allowed himself to have been covered by her stained stockings. Something in her posture changed, very subtly. I guess that the sight of Dad like this did something to Mom, as her neck visibly relaxed, while her breathing became deeper again. Mom was letting go of something that had been giving her power to resist the recent changes.

As light fell in through the window, Mom stood in the middle of the room and turned to me again. She stood upright, firm, as a Goddess of an ancient culture bathing in the afternoon sunshine. I could see how the light seemed to infuse her with a relaxation that made her glow. Her expression had changed, as she seemed calm and in control. She kept looking me in the eye, as her hands moved on their own to start to unbutton her blouse. Her hands knew perfectly well what they needed to do, even without her looking at down, and they quickly got the first button open. A first sign of Mom's impressive cleavage showed.

Because Mom looked so intently in my direction, the whole scene got a sense of a ceremony, in which Mom would be offering herself to me. A second button was opened, and the top of Mom's white bra with lace ornaments became visible. Meanwhile, blood found its way to my cock again, and where it had hung limpid after Mom's hand job, it now twitched once more. I was nervous, I did not know where to look. Now that I had come, the pressure was less, and I could think more clearly - and I, obviously, felt shame and confusion. Yet, it was as if Mom was doing this for me - her face looked so serious and pretty in the radiant light.

"Mom, I am so sorry for what happened..."I tried, but she did not reply this time. Instead, a third button came open, so that the round shape of her heavy breasts became visible. Then, Mom's stomach, slightly fluffy, but still very good for her age. When the last button was opened, Mom's breasts were hidden by nothing but her beautiful white bra. Her motherly globes were slightly pushed up by it, and her bulky cleavage looked delicious. I could simply not look away. Mom was stripping for me .