His Mother's Voice

"Everybody in the 'community' these days is either a 20 year old hardbody -- and I will not be upstaged on my own damn site -- or a handsy old 'roided-out gym rat with balls the size of jellybeans." Her fingernail traced around VOG; the button pulsed with a soft purple glow.

"Honey you can give those little bitches a run for their money and you know it," Lydia was audibly panting on the other end. "What about that scrummy young man you keep around the house?"

"Tyler? He is not going to want- wait, what do you mean by scrummy?" Kim scowled.

"Darling I've seen the photos you keep on Facebook," the agent panted. "He's becoming quite the handsome young man; so tall and broad and tanned. His hands look really very...large."

"You can keep yours off Tyler, thank you very much," she could feel the heat rising in her face. "Why don't you tell whatsisname, Lyam to fuck your damn brains out and stop leering at my son."

"Kimberly, there's no need to- what on earth are you-" there was loud fumble of fabric and a clatter on the other end and suddenly Lydia's voice was far away. "Lyam- oh! Oh fuck! Oh my fuck!" The rhythmic slap of flesh on flesh filled the line as the agent's voice was lost in progressively more animal grunting.

Kim made her own disgusted snort and slammed the handset back into its cradle. She took a deep, cleansing breath, and then noticed the throb in her other hand, where she'd balled it into a fist and brought it down on the VOG button. She lifted her hand, flexing the fingers, and thinking. And thinking.

"Ty! Can you come here a moment please?"

"What for?" Came the irritated reply.

"I need a hand, Tyler. Can you just come here please?"

"Ugh, fine." Kim could hear his plodding, reluctant step from the living room to her office.

"Yeah, what is it?" He appeared in the doorway, slouching against the frame, not looking up from his phone.

"Nothing too taxing, I promise." She rolled her eyes. "I just need you to stay here and listen to me recording this thing so I don't feel so foolish."

"How long is that gonna take?" Ty asked, checking his wrist for a watch he wasn't wearing.

Kim scowled. "I don't know. Fifteen? Twenty minutes? Do you have something better to do?"

"I wanted to catch the highlights from last night's game, then I gotta get ready for work, and I dunno, I'm busy." Those broad shoulders sagged in a lazy shrug.

Her fingers found the VOG button all on their own, and gave it an experimental press. "Why don't you stay here, instead of watching some game you've already seen, and just listen to me?"

Tyler's posture stiffened for a fraction of a second, then sagged again. "Sure. Fine. It's only twenty minutes right?"

"Right! Thank you!" She chewed her lip for a moment, thinking, then tried the button again, just to see. "But first, why don't you get me a glass of water so I can wet my whistle?"

Again, he stiffened, then relaxed. "Yeah, sure." Ty rolled his eyes, but peeled himself away from the doorframe and headed towards the kitchen.

Kim let out a long breath, her body suffused with a sudden giddiness, head spinning. What a rush! She had to work hard to suppress a giggle, but the overwhelming feeling of...of power made it difficult to keep her emotions in check. Her heart pounded hard against her ribs, and her face was a little numb with excitement as the adrenaline coursed through her; looking down at her shaky hands, Kim could see that her nipples were hard as rocks, drilling through the light jersey material of the tunic and the unlined bra she wore underneath.

Kim flexed her fingers and took another long breath, trying to calm herself.

"A girl could get used to feeling like this," she said.

* When you looked at it objectively, Dan didn't have a bad dick. In fact, some twenty years earlier, it had been a pretty nice dick indeed: a tidy, uncut seven incher that had done a very good job of filling her up where she needed filling, and its owner had at least demonstrated some competence in fucking her until he dragged ragged, ecstatic screams from her throat. But losing all of their money in the first dot-com crash had been a serious blow to his self-esteem that he'd never really recovered from, and a decade and a half of an increasingly-sedentary lifestyle had done the rest. While she was out there, busting her ass to stay in shape and hawk an out-of-date fitness system to people who mostly remembered her as an enthusiastic twenty-something with bad hair on QVC, he was home, wallowing in beer and never-was regrets and new ways to waste their money, her money.

Kim had loved him once, and still felt a great swell of pity for him when he got up the nerve to try to please her; indeed, if someone had hard pressed her for a reason why she stayed with Dan all these years, "pity" would have been her first answer ("being terrified of starting all over again" would have eventually been the second), and pity was why she still let him make his bi-monthly attempts to climb on top of her and prove his manhood on her aching pussy, even though she knew that disappointment awaited after he was finished his frenetic five minutes of half-hard thrusting.

Sometimes, lying there under his sweating bulk, waiting for him to deposit his watery load, she reflected on what a cruel joke of nature it was that as his libido and stamina had waned so sharply, her own had only increased in equal proportion. Which is how Kim found herself lying next to her satiated, snoring husband, fingers playing over the smooth skin of her well-trimmed mons (too much bush did not do in the kind of tights that were de rigueur at the gym these days), dreaming idly of a big thrusting cock, plowing relentlessly between the scarlet folds of her pussy, giving her the kind of fucking she hadn't had in over a decade.

In her fantasy, it didn't seem to belong to anybody in particular, though somehow she knew it was rampant with the vigour of youth. Maybe one of those forward boys from her gym, the ones who weren't too shy about ogling her sculpted legs in those tiny running shorts, or staring at the dramatic curves of her ass, outlined in paper-thin spandex. Or what about that kid Lydia was nailing? Turnabout was fair play; if her agent was going to leer at her son, fantasizing about that bottle blonde's latest boy toy was just desserts. Anyway, Kim had seen the way his eyes fell into her cleavage, hard as it was to hide, especially in the v-necks Kim tended to favour in the summertime. He was a pretty "scrummy" young man himself, tending towards dress shirts just a fraction too tight for his muscular frame, and khakis that were similarly complimentary to his squared-off behind. She wondered what he'd look like with those pants yanked down around his shoes, heavy cock bobbing between the tails of his shirt, an intimidating shaft of meat that would just throb and pulse in her-

Downstairs, a door slammed so hard the house shook a little.

Kim sat up straight in bed, heart racing.

"Dan!" She shook her husband. "What the hell was that?" He snorted and rolled onto his side.

"Prolly just the kid coming home," he mumbled, half into his pillow. "He said he was going out after his shift."

"You're not going to look?" Kim turned to him, but he was already snoring gently. Huffing, she got out of bed and straightened the dove-grey nightie that had somehow risen up above her hips, then shrugged into a silky, much-abbreviated dressing gown.

She had only laid her hand on the doorknob when Kim heard feet on the stairs, trying and failing to sneak up. Then, a voice in the hallway, speaking softly, the words indistinct but definitely Ty's. Her fingers relaxed then tenses right up again when she heard a second voice, one Kim didn't recognize.

"A girl," she mouthed the words at Dan's sleeping bulk. An unwinnable battle with her curiosity raged while her son and his friend crept past, and by the time Kim succumbed and opened the door a crack, she only managed to get a glimpse of a slim blonde figure in a scrap of a dress before Tyler hustled the girl into his room and shut his own door.

Kim chewed on her lip for a moment, and then it was her turn to go sneaking down the hallway, bare feet padding against the carpet until she reached Ty's room. The voices within were low, unintelligible until she put her ear against the door.

"...Jordan was right, wow." The girl spoke in a lilt that set Kim's teeth on edge.

"So are you gonna-" Ty sounded hesitant, nervous.

"Oh my god, no." Then, giggles. "You'd, like, break my jaw or something."

"Well if we're not going to do anything then why did you come up in the first place?"

"Um, who said we weren't going to do anything?"

A moment's silence, then Ty went, "whoa okay."

Kim knew it was well-past time to peel herself away and go back to bed, but she couldn't help it, especially not when the girl in her son's room said, "I've never had to use both hands before. You like that?"

"Uhh yeah that- that's real good." His voice was barely audible now. Kim felt her breast swell with an absurd mix of pride in her son's above-average member and offence on his behalf. Silly little bitch wasn't even going to try oral? Lord knew you didn't have to deepthroat it like in those damn pornos; there were all kinds of things you could do with your mouth if you tried-

"I bet I can fit these in my mouth," loud, wet smacking sounds filtered through the wood, and Tyler let out a low moan. "Did you shave just for me?" More obscene wet noises.

"Uhhh I guess- umm fuck- fuck yes?"

"You got a condom?" The girl asked after a few more minutes of ministering to her son's balls. "These feel suuuuper full. I don't want to get knocked up, but I do want to go for a ride on this thing."

"Huh? Yeah, I got some right here," the rattling of a drawer, then the frantic crinkle of foil. Kim shook her head; surely that slip of a thing wasn't going to try to fuck something she couldn't manage in her mouth without some foreplay first. Unless she was a significant self-starter, there was no way the teen was wet enough to get Ty's big dick in her. Kim ignored a squishy sensation as her thighs squeezed together on their own.

"Oh my god." More giggling. "It's like getting up on a horse or something."

"Holy shit, holy shit that's umm that's tight."

"No, you're just, like, big." Muffled grunts of effort, high-pitched and low. 'Relax your pelvic floor' Kim mouthed, trying to telepathically instruct the young couple. More grunts. She rolled her eyes. The girl probably couldn't even spell kegel, never mind having the kind of muscle control Kim had learned over the years.

"Come on." You could almost hear the clenched teeth.

"What? It's not even half-"

"It'll um, it'll loosen up. Just, like, go slow okay?"

"Like this?" Ty's bed began to squeak softly. If Kim was squirming, it was almost definitely because she was thinking of the chafing, and not the heat building between her thighs as she imagined a fat shaft, making teasingly slow, short pumps. One of her hands fell to the hem of her nightdress and started making an extended series of adjustments.

"Oooh slowslowslowslow," the girl cooed in a shaky voice. "Fuck- fuck get on top and- no! Don't pull out, just, like, switch." Complicated rustling followed, then more squeaking. "Yeah, yeah that's it." One of Kim's fingers probed around her mons, feeling the dewy stickiness before questing in between them. There was a little 'shlick' as she investigated the volume of slippery lubricant emanating from her sensitive flesh. From behind the door, there were only grunts and the occasional feminine gasp.

Then, after what seemed like an eternity, Ty said: "oh, fuck. It's in. it's in all the way."

"God it's so. Fucking. Big!" The squeaking of his bed became faster, louder, almost too loud for Kim to hear her fingering herself, digit circling and curling inside of her pussy, then sliding it back out again to strum her clit, hard. "Oh fuck Ty, fuck me!" There was a steady drumming now, as something started beating against one of the walls; in her mind's eye, Kim could see Tyler's headboard bouncing off the drywall with each thrust, his tall, muscular form working hard over the girl's. In each hand he held a slim ankle, her toes curling with each stroke, Tyler's rock hard ass flexing every time. Then the knocking on the wall got louder and faster and he leaned low over her, hand grabbing her hip, the other braced against the bed as her legs locked around his waist, dainty feet kicking the base of his spine, spurring him on to fuck her even harder.

For her part, Kim was braced hard against the doorframe, two fingers exploring her sopping wet puss; her other hand was busily working her erect pleasure button. The headboard was drumming so hard now that she was sure they'd put a hole in the wall, but she was too interested in keeping up to care very much; she imagined that Ty's ass was a pistoning blur, his body coated in a sheen of familiar-smelling sweat, handsome features set in grim determination as he fucked them both inexorably towards orgasm. His big cock ploughed through the slick folds that grasped and clung to that veiny shaft, balls swinging and smacking against her ass, their bodies a single frenetic machine.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Her son growled in a rising crescendo, and the girl underneath squealed with pleasure; faked or not, Kim didn't care, as their racket covered her own stifled gasps nicely.

What the fuck was she doing?

"Did you hear something?"

Tyler's mom staggered back from the door, pulling her sticky fingers free from the nest between her legs. Cold realization stole over her. Clumsily wiping her hand in her robe, she stumbled down the hall as quietly as she could, nearly tripping over her own feet before she managed to snatch open her bedroom door and almost fall inside, where Dan was snoring like a hibernating beast.

Heart in her throat, Kim leaned hard against her door as Tyler's opened.

"Nah, nothing." He said. His door clicked shut.

What the fuck was she doing?

"You need a real dicking, Kim."

Dan didn't even stir as she clambered back into the bed, trying to ignore the yawning need that had been awakened in her.

*

"Here?" The pyramid stack of free weights thumped onto the floor, muffled somewhat by the yoga mat they landed on, next to the padded workout bench that once lived in their basement.

"No, to the right," Kim said, swivelling back and forth a little in her office chair, knowing she was being kind of a bitch, but loving the little thrill of power that danced up her spine.

"Here's an idea," Tyler straightened up and crossed his arms, corded with muscle in his white tank top. "How about you figure out where you want it to go and move it yourself?" His mother briefly considered a barbed retort of her own, then simply depressed the VOG button.

"Or, how about you do as I tell you, and you move the weights a little to the right, off the mat? And don't drop them this time." Kim bit her lip as she watched that momentary tremor run through Ty's body, the command taking hold, feeling the tingle in her extremities as she exercised her power over him.

He did it, grudgingly, but he did it. She watched her son pull a face then bend and pick up the stacked weights, loose basketball shorts slithering around, pretending that she wasn't trying to gauge the size of his dick through the material. It had been on her mind all night long, wondering exactly how big it was, how thick, how smooth, what his sac looked like, swing-

"Here?" Tyler asked, shortly. The weights sat kitty-corner to the yoga mat, now well out of the way.

"Perfect." Kim rose from her chair, stretching long and tall up on her tiptoes, feeling the hem of her bright yellow running top rise above her navel; she didn't quite have a six-pack anymore, but her stomach was flat and smooth.

"Are we done?" He said, as his mother stretched her quads, legs bare and muscular and brown and almost entirely bare in their peach compression shorts.

"Just about." She started on the other leg. "Did one of your friends sleep over last night, honey? I thought I heard somebody leave this morning." Kim's voice was saccharine as she scanned his face, watching it flush adorably.

"How uh how much did you hear?" He shuffled his feet, suddenly nervous.

"Enough to know it wasn't Mitch or Benny," Kim gave him an arch smile. "Who was it?"

"Uh her name is Jessie, Jessycka."

"Jessica?"

"No, Jessycka. She says it has a 'y'. And a 'k'."

"Are you two...together?" Kim bent at the waist to one side, then the other, feeling her abs release tension; her pitch black ponytail swung like a pendulum.

"No! I mean, no. I mean, she's just a girl from work, one of the cashiers. She's taking a gap year like me."

"You're taking a gap year to save money," she admonished, "not to waste it on some girl and knock her up. I don't think you should see her again, Tyler."

His face went from prettily embarrassed to dark with anger.

"What the fuck!?" Her son roared. "I've been busting my ass for you all damn summer and now I can't even date?! What the hell, mom! This is some bullsh-"

"Tyler Hayes," she spoke softly, purple button glowing intently under her finger. "You are not going to make me a grandmother at 46. No. More. Jessycka this summer. In fact, no more of these young girls at all. Understood?" His face screwed up like a child's, but he nodded his acquiescence. "Good." Kim felt a rush of arousal and excitement.

"Are we done here? I'm out." He turned to go, radiating a barely-concealed resentment.

"No," Kim's hand fell on a used DSLR camera she'd borrowed from Lydia. She held it out. "Here. I need you to take some shots while I demonstrate."

"Jesus Christ," he was halfway through the door. "Can't you get somebody else for a change? I'm sick and tired of being your gopher, and I'm not a professional photographer or anything."

"No, but you did photos for your school paper, and we can't swing a professional right now. Why do you think we're doing this in my office and not a damn studio?" The camera strap flapped around as she proffered it. "Take it."

"Fuck that," Tyler snarled. "I am done, Mom. Find yourself another servant. Maybe Dad will-"

"You. Will. Come. Here and help me." His body trembled. A thought occurred to her. "You will do as I ask and you will like it, Tyler. Understand?"

"Yes." His voice sounded very far away, but the anger visibly drained from his posture, and he was almost smiling when he came back into the room.

"Ready?" Kim held out the camera.

"Sure," Tyler enthused, taking the device without an ounce of sarcasm or irony. His mother's heart was trip hammering in her chest; Kim hadn't expected any that to work, not really. Getting him to help her move things was normal, par for the course in parenting, really, nothing in comparison to getting him to give up regular pussy for the summer, nothing in comparison to the genuinely pleased expression on his face as she handed him the camera with trembling fingers. It frightened her more than a little, but there was no denying the rush, either, or the trickling wetness she felt in her shorts.

"I-I figured we could start with some easy stuff: squats, lunges, military presses, nothing too complex." Kim recovered her composure quickly, striding over to the little mock gym they'd erected on the far side of the room. Bending down, she grabbed a pair of ten pound weights, steel chrome plates shining in the light. When she turned to look at Ty, he was staring. "Are you okay, honey?"

"Oh yeah, I'm great," he beamed at her, a smile she hadn't seen in longer than she could recall.

"Good. Now, get a couple of shots from the side, and a couple from the front, in both positions, understand?"