Mama's Special Boy Pt. 02

Barely a week had passed since I made the discovery that I'm pregnant. Michael's relentless fucking has persisted and I have been unable to deny him or make him stop. Not that I've tried much to be honest.

I've been enjoying the new found closeness between Michael and I; his increased feedings, his incessant need to be inside me and fill me up with cum, the prolonged cuddles that follow. As a mama who just wants to make sure her boy is well cared for and content - I couldn't be happier.

When he is not intimately attached to me in some way, he's almost serene. His 6ft tall, broad, 18 year old body seems less agitated and far more at rest than I've ever seen him. And to think, my boy will be a Daddy in less than 9 months time. The thought of that for any other mother might just drive her insane. But not me, not when I'm the one that has been impregnated by my 18 year old son.

I rub circles around my still flat lower abdomen absent mindedly. I'm anxious as to how soon I will start showing - I need to make plans to relocate as soon as possible. Far away from this familiar, too comfortable town. Hopefully to somewhere where Michael and I can build a life as a small family with our baby. The thought still sounds ridiculous and odd to me - building a family with my son. But I know I could never leave him, just as I know I could never get rid of this baby. I also know with deep certainty that I will never be able to stop Michael from fucking me, not now he has gotten a real taste for it. If it wasn't me, I fear it would be someone else he would force to bend over the nearest surface so he could ram his cock repeatedly into them, before spewing his seed inside of them. So it only seemed logical - to keep Michael from harm, to keep other women from harm and to keep this baby from harm, I will continue to open my legs for him.

I still feel the wetness from this morning's fuck lingering between my thighs as I watch Michael building some lego in the garden. I decide to be productive and get some gardening done while I have some peace. I find a sundress in the clean laundry pile and pull it on over my head. I've only been wearing my nursing bra around the house - no panties, since Michael requires near constant access to me in one way or another. Pulling on a sundress feels almost alien after the weeks of near nakedness.

I wander out into the garden and begin weeding. I have my back to Michael as I work my way slowly around the garden, my gardening gloves protecting my hands from any damage. An hour or so passes in the lovely sunshine before I feel my dress being flipped up around my hips.

'Michael!' I half whisper-shriek, 'What are you doing?!' He has already settled on his knees behind me, in between my spread open thighs, his hands just beginning to push his shorts out of the way to release his cock. He's taken me in the garden a few times before, early in the morning against the outside wall of the house. Usually when I've gone out to the trash can and he's awakened to me being gone from bed and has angrily sought me out for leaving before he's been sated and fed. He's never tried to take me outside in the middle of the day before, much less in the middle of the garden where the neighbours could spot us from their windows in a glance.

'Michael, honey, let's go inside please and I'll give you your lunch,' I plead to unhearing ears as he rubs his cock head up and down my still soggy slit. I try pull away to stand up but he won't have it - I'm roughly pulled back down to the grass a second before he lines himself hastily up and rams his cock into me. I muffle my cry, hoping that if we're quiet and I clench my inner muscles, this will pass quickly and Michael will cum inside me without any of the neighbours having noticed.

Michael's hips start off slowly as he clearly relishes in the feel of my tight, wet pussy; shortly after he picks up the pace. I plant myself firmly on my hands and knees as I take the pummelling, Michael's cock diving deep inside my pussy with every thrust. I squeeze my inner muscles tightly which elicits a whimper from him. I concentrate on keeping squeezing to get him off faster, so we can get inside out of direct view of the neighbours. Michael's grip on my hips is bruising as he pulls me back onto his dick to meet every thrust. My eyes water with the force of his drives, I press my mouth tightly to one of my shoulders as I try not to cry out.

A few minutes later, my near silence is irrelevant as Michael grunts, moans loudly and starts cumming, his hips slapping audibly against my ass cheeks as he finishes filling me up. After he rests for a second, he pulls out, pulls his shorts up and wanders back into the house - to sit on the couch waiting for me to feed him, I dare say.

I raise myself to my knees, a little wobbly. Letting my dress fall back down as cum trickles down my thighs, I hastily look around. I see no twitching curtains, no faces hovering near the panes of glass and no eyes peeking over fences to see who was getting fucked senseless in their back yard. I exhale swiftly, getting to my knees and bustling back into the house after Michael.

We've hardly been inside 5 minutes when the doorbell goes. I have to pry Michael off my breast in order to answer the door, to which he protests greatly and follows a pace behind to stand immediately behind me as I answer the door. I assume it's so as soon as the visitor is dealt with, he can guide me back to the couch to promptly finish his feed.

Old Mr Jenkins from next door stands on the threshold of the door. 'Good afternoon Miss,' he says confidently. He always calls me Miss, never by my first name. It may be my imagination, but I always think I can detect a hint of disapproval in his tone when he says it, his old-fashioned ways a little rankled that I'm divorced with a son and not still unhappily married with a son.

'Oh good afternoon, Mr. Jenkins,' I try brightly, 'What can I do for you this afternoon?'

'Well, Miss, I'd like to come in for a chat,' he says as he eyes me up and down. His slow perusal of my body made very clear, him taking his time to take in my heavy breasts as he skates down my body.

'Oh, I see. What would you like to chat about?' I ask uncertainly as I hold the door open for him to enter. Michael starts to pull me back towards the couch. I'm reluctantly tugged along behind him while Mr. Jenkins follows, I pray that Michael remembers enough about etiquette that he can wait patiently until our guest goes. But we so rarely have guests.

Mr. Jenkins must be around 78, even with his slightly stooped shoulders he is around 5ft 10 and 150lbs. His balding head is covered in sparse white hair, and his wrinkled face barely supports the gold framed glasses on his nose. His black dress slacks and crisp blue shirt show that he's more still in a reasonable way of looking after himself for his age.

'Well Miss, I've been hearing a lot of curious noises recently. I wanted to check to make sure everything is alright in here.' He says, eyeing me knowingly. I pale, the blood leaving my face in a rush as Michael sits me down on the couch before positioning himself with his head in my lap. I barely move as I look at Mr Jenkins taking in the scene hungrily.

'Sir?' I whisper, 'what do you mean?'

'You know fine and well what I mean,' he grins at me. 'I just saw you in the garden all of 10 minutes ago. You looked like you were enjoying yourself.'

I'm frozen in stunned silence. Michael pulls the front of my dress down, and tugs at my nursing bra to release my breast. 'Michael, stop, not now,' I breathe and fighting his hand to try to tug my clothes back into place. Of course he doesn't listen. Mr Jenkins watches raptly as Michael pries my fingers off of his, captures my hands in one of his and uses the other to free a breast properly before he takes it in his mouth and begins suckling again. He's more interested in finishing his meal than he is in our guest or propriety.

I sit stunned. Michael pulling rhythmically on my breast as I sit watching Mr Jenkins. 'I've suspected something interesting of going on these past few months,' he says, his eyes not leaving my son's mouth around my nipple. He stands and walks forward towards us to stand in front of us. 'It would be an awful shame if someone found out about this, wouldn't it miss?' He says clearly not thinking it would be a shame at all.

Mr Jenkins starts fondling his crotch while watching Michael suckle. 'I could, of course, be convinced to keep quiet about this whole unfortunate situation.' He reaches over to recline the seat of the couch I'm on, laying me back so much that Michael needs to re-shuffle to keep proper contact with my breast.

I say nothing as Mr Jenkins reaches forward to raise the hem of my dress. My pussy still bare and leaking cum. 'I watched him fuck you like a bitch in heat in the garden. I watched and heard him cum inside you. I think it's only fair I get a turn, no?' Without preamble, two of his fingers dive deep into my pussy and start moving in and out. Mr Jenkins moves to stand with one leg on either side of my reclined seat as he fingers me and palms his own crotch with the other hand before releasing it from his slacks. I stare in mute horror as I look at his old cock, surrounded by unruly grey pubic hair, surprisingly hard.

Mr Jenkins forcefully pulls my legs so my crotch is closer to him, meaning that Michael has to readjust himself again to continue feeding. Michael grunts in displeasure at the interruption, but otherwise barely looks up. Mr Jenkins fingers pump in and out of me while he pumps his shaft, it's not long before he gets impatient and moves the tip of his barely hard dick to my entrance. He removes his fingers and nudges in slightly. I can't move - if I don't let this happen, he'll tell everyone about Michael fucking me. When I start to show they'll all know. Fighting Mr Jenkins will mean a drama, and it will disturb Michael's feed. I look down at Michael's content face guiltily - I can't have that.

So I say nothing as Mr Jenkins thrusts into me from his standing position. His mediocre dick not comparable to Michael's in the slightest. He starts thrusting into me slowly, his eyes roaming over my pussy now accommodating his old cock, Michael's large body spread out across the couch while his mouth suckles at me and makes noises of humming satisfaction in his throat as he drinks his fill. Mr Jenkins starts thumbing my clit and I gasp at the sensation, too much going on at once.

Mr Jenkins hip thrusts quicken, his cock pumping into my body as he stimulates me too. I moan involuntarily and notice Michael start to rub at the bulge in his shorts too. Mr Jenkins of course notices. 'You'd better take care of your boy,' he says smugly lifting one of my hands and placing it on Michael's crotch for me. Michael's hips automatically thrust up into my hand as he too shifts to pull down his shorts.

'Go on, do it.' Mr Jenkins chides, 'Unless of course you want everyone to find out.' He raises a brow at me as he pumps harder into me and circles my clit faster. My hand grasps Michael's cock and starts to move, Michael soon begins whimpering and thrusting into my hand as Mr Jenkins watches.

'Uhh, yes,' Mr Jenkins moans, 'fuck your sons cock with your hand, squeeze my cock with your pussy.' His filthy words make my pussy contract, he grunts in pleasure as he picks up the pace again. By now I'm moaning helplessly at the slew of sensations. Michael's cock in my hand and his frantic thrusting hips, Michael's head between me and Mr Jenkins, his mouth on my nipple, deeply pulling milk from me. Mr Jenkins' thumb rubbing hard, relentless circles into my clit and his cock powering into me as he leans over us.

Michael moans long and low and begins cumming, the cum spraying up his body and he whimpers. The sensation and noise too much for me, I topple into my own orgasm and moan my pleasure. My pussy pulsing around an old mans cock I couldn't say no to. Michael, unconcerned with the man fucking me, shifts out the way and leaves to sit on the floor to play with his lego distractedly, sated from his feed and his orgasm.

Leaving Mr Jenkins to collapse his body to mine and ploughs into me harder; his saggy balls slapping relentlessly on my ass. He brings his mouth to mine and forces his tongue into my mouth, kissing me savagely as the wet noise of our sex permeates the room. I let him kiss me helplessly and end up kissing him back, the need in my pussy starting to take over all reasonable sense. Kissing is something Michael has shown no interest in and I've missed the sensation and the closeness.

'Fuck,' Mr Jenkins groans, 'Going to cum soon.' He plunges his tongue back into my mouth as be reaches his hands around to my ass and pulls it up towards him for a deeper angle. His cock head rubs over my g-spot and I moan again, it's abruptly cut off as Mr Jenkins forces a finger up my ass. I grunt at the intrusion as he rapidly starts to finger fuck me there. 'Fuck, fuck, fuck,' he chants, clearly close to the edge. His cock jerks and I can feel new warmth flooding my insides as he rams his finger knuckle deep and his cock balls deep into me. I cum again, moaning uncontrollably as I spasm around his still pumping cock.

Mr Jenkins rubs out both of our orgasms for a minute or so before laying between my legs, getting my other breast out of my nursing bra and begins experimentally suckling on my breast. He hums as he gets his first taste of my breast milk, 'I could get used to this,' he groans as he continues suckling.

I lay there leaking cum onto the couch with a wrinkled old cock softening inside of me, my elderly next door neighbour feeding from me and Michael playing contentedly on the floor.

__

Mr Jenkins comes by every day to 'check on me.' Really, he comes by to fuck me and get some milk for himself. Any time I try to object, he reminds me he will happily tell everyone in the neighbourhood of my shame.

Eventually, he takes a spare key. Eventually, he comes round twice a day. He watches Michael fuck me, he watches me cum on his cock, he watches Michael pump his cum into me. Once Michael's done, it's his turn. He likes the feel of Michael's cum filling me and oozing out around his cock as he pushes inside of me.

I haven't told him I'm pregnant yet, I'm hoping I will be able to leave soon. But as the weeks pass and my stomach rounds slightly, I feel I'm running out of time. By the time I find a new place, sell this one, and arrange to move out, I might be showing quite visibly, and there's only so much flowing sundresses can hide.

One day, when Mr Jenkins lets himself in to pay his usual morning visit, he throws the curtains of the large living room windows wide open. 'It's about time we get some light in here,' he announces, as I startle from my spot on the couch as Michael feeds. I'm anxious that from my position on the couch, anyone looking in could easily see a nice side profile of us since we're positioned in front of the window, with the sidewalk mere metres away, they'd get a real clear view of Michael's mouth around my nipple if they looked close enough.

Mr Jenkins walks around the back of the couch and puts his hands on my shoulders to keep me planted in the reclined seat. 'You must sit here, with the curtains open and allow Michael to finish feeding, and then you must feed me too.' He rubs firmly into my shoulders. I sit, stoically quiet and say nothing as Michael continues suckling. For another 10 minutes, Michael feeds before getting up and wandering off to his room. Mr Jenkins claps him ok the back as he leaves, 'Good boy, Michael,' he says before moving onto my lap himself.

He takes my breast in his mouth - the same breast Michael was suckling on - and starts to draw milk for himself. I stare out the window in abject horror, tensing every time someone walks past, just waiting for someone to glance in and see me feeding old man Jenkins from next door. After 5 minutes of feeding, theres an undeniable bulge at his crotch which he keeps fumbling at. He gasps, 'I can't wait any longer,' as he sits up, pulling himself off the sofa before unceremoniously yanking my dress off over my head, leaving me bared naked. He pulls my thighs wide apart and settles himself between them, I immediately start to clam up, 'The window,' I gasp as he pushes into me. He says nothing as he starts sawing into me and suckling at the same time. All I can do is helplessly look over his shoulder and out the window as he humps into me, watching as our busy neighbourhood continues living their lives, barely aware of what's going on a window pane away.

'Mmmm,' Mr Jenkins groans as he works to drain me of milk, 'I could do this all day.' His cock rubs into me as his thrusts quicken fractionally. Michael wanders back in and sits on the floor to play with Lego, he doesn't glance at us since he's so used to Mr Jenkins' presence by now. Mr Jenkins moans on top of me, hitching my hips up more towards him as he tries to plough deeper into me with his short cock. 'I'm going to cum in this sweet pussy soon, baby,' he moans into my ear, 'And you'll take all of it, for as long as I want you to.' I whimper at his dirty words as the tip of his cock grazes over my g-spot, stimulating me from the new angle he's created.

From the corner of my eye, I see Mrs Walker strolling down the sidewalk with Mrs Grant, each of them pushing their strollers. They look in every window they pass - their insatiable need to be nosy overpowers their manners. I hiss to Mr Jenkins, 'They'll see - we can't - you have to stop.' He looks out the window as they approach, his hips do nothing but pump faster, 'No, my darling, I really don't have to stop,' he moans as he returns his mouth to my nipple.

I watch in horror as the two women get to the window, the both look in at the same time and startle visibly in shock. They abruptly stop and stand there gaping into the living room as I can only imagine the sight they're taking in every detail of. Michael playing happily on the floor in front of the TV, unbothered by what's happening behind him; me spread-eagled on the couch as naked as the day I was born and Mr Jenkins humping his cock into my sopping pussy, his wrinkled balls swinging and smacking my ass with every thrust. His moaning mouth covering one of my nipples, clearly drawing on them. I peer at them in horror as they watch, as Mr Jenkins moans and pumps quicker still, now eager to cum, his pace as close to a jackhammer as his hips will allow.

He raises his mouth to my ear to whisper to me, 'That's it, let them watch as I fuck you, now they'll have something to talk about - just think it will detract any attention from you and your boy, won't it?' His relentless stroking over my g-spot hasn't diminished, and as he grinds into me my orgasm threatens to overtake my body. 'I'm going to spurt my cum so deep inside you, it'll take all day to trickle down your thighs.' Clearly turning himself on with his own dirty words, his hips start to stutter, 'But never mind, I might just spend all day here with you and Michael, and we can take turns filling you up.' He moans as his dick swells slightly bigger inside of me, getting ready to unload. The women haven't moved, they're transfixed on the scene before them of old Mr Jenkins ploughing into the young mum next door. Mr Jenkins is now moaning continuously, his hips jerking and stuttering as his pleasure overwhelms him. He starts to cum, still thrusting inside me as his creamy seed fills me and tips me into me own orgasm, I moan, wide-eyed - still staring at our audience as he rubs out his orgasm and prolongs my own.

As Mr Jenkins get up off of me, I feel the cum he deposited leak out of me, I know before I look that the thick white stream will be visible to the women. I watch as their eyes focus in on his unprotected cock and my leaking pussy. They glance up at me before jerking forward and hurrying on down the street.