Mom is a Fool

I didn't want to talk to her, so I gave her wide berth; as wide as I could given the cramped nature of our two-bedroom apartment. I needed to rinse the slime and smells of the butcher and the deli off me so I took a quick turn into the shower and shut the door. Fresh memories of what happened that morning hit me like a ton of bricks and by the time I was naked and standing in the shower, my cock was screaming. I rinsed off the smell of smoked meats and lamb fat and then washed my hair, hoping it would offer enough distraction to quell the one-eyed beast, but it was hopeless. I had to take matters into my own hands, something I rarely did outside the privacy of my bedroom. Two pumps of body wash followed by two dozens pumps of the gizmo had me painting the walls white. Gods it felt good to get that out my system. I cleaned up, got dressed, and made a beeline for my room.

An hour passed while I mindlessly wasted oxygen chasing twelve-year-olds around the screen with a pixelated M-16. My palm started to itch, barely noticeable at first. I thought it was from my sweaty grip on the controller. I was graced from birth with sensitive skin and prone to break out in a rash if I wasn't careful. Then the itch spread, inexplicably skipping the rest of my body and focusing all of its annoyance on the thing I'd finally managed to quiet. My cock burned, quickly supplanting the irritation I felt across my hand. Then I put the two together.

I bolted out of my room feeling like my dick was aflame. A thousand needles stabbed at my most sensitive area as I sprinted into the kitchen and pulled open the freezer door. I took out an ice pack and rammed it down the front of my pants. Then I spun and saw Mom, sitting at the kitchen table futilely trying to keep a straight face.

"What did you do?!" I howled as the icy cold sent a whole new type of pain shooting through my burning bits and pieces.

"Oh no, Dax! What did you do?"

I was blinded by the pain at this point. My pants came down as any amount of contact felt like it was tearing off my skin. My raw red cock fell out and I threw a teary-eyed pleading glance Mom's way before wrapping it back up in ice.

"Serves you right!" She was starting to chuckle but couldn't keep it up as my evident discomfort quickly soften her sweetheart. "I put fabric softener in your soap." She winced, obviously not intending to cause this severe of a reaction isolated to that specific locale.

Evil little witch! She knew I was allergic to that shit. I still had nightmares of my body breaking out in hives in the middle of first period English class in high school. Thanks to Mom's gullible nature, she'd fallen for that stupid stuffed bear on TV and bought a bottle to try. How was I supposed to know my damned sensitive skin wanted nothing to do with that evil blue goop and that plush giggling shitheel? She kept using the malevolent stuff on her own clothes; last year I had a pair of socks get mixed up with her laundry and could barely walk for two days.

"Fuck, Ma!" I doubled over, losing the ability to think clearly let alone form a sentence without a four-letter word in it. "Shit burns," I gasped, kicking off my pants and hobbling to the kitchen hunched over in agony. I dropped into a chair and started banging my head against the wooden tabletop in the hopes of distracting myself from the unholy fire that burned my loins. I'd gained a new appreciation for my high school sex ed class at that moment. "Don't be silly, protect your willy," they said. I sure as shit didn't think they were talking about Mom when I laughed at those words. I'd never wish this agony on anyone, no matter what disease-infested swamp they swam in.

Mom stood and went to the scene of our recent crimes and returned moments later with a tube of cream in her hand. I was oblivious to all of this at the time, but what she did next immediately brought my attention back to reality. From under the table, Mom pried the ice pack away from my crimson cock and I felt her little hands again, working up and down my shaft. I spread my knees and scooched forward a bit so she could get that healing cream everywhere it needed to go. I instantly felt better, and though I knew it wouldn't last, I remembered that stuff had worked miracles the last time this travesty befell me. Gods, Mom's hands felt so good on my fiery flesh as they slipped in between every fold and dangling wrinkle, spreading a wave of cooling bliss across my poor aching parts.

What followed was only natural given the circumstances. I felt myself relax and begin to enjoy her treatment as the pain subsided and I was able to focus on her meandering digits as they caressed every square millimeter of my privates. I grew and then grew s'more as she continued her healing massage from under the table. I wished I could see what she was doing but the hidden surprise only added to the excitement as I felt her begin stroking my length in earnest, rolling her palm over my swollen red tip.

Mom attacked me with both hands, one wrapped firmly around the base of my shaft and the other flying across my tender knob. I tightened within moments and groaned into the tabletop as I felt the first spasm. She stopped moving and held my throbbing rose-colored prick while I unloaded beneath the table. I couldn't tell where my milky streams were landing so I let my imagination run with it, picturing her pretty little face being pelted by globs of flying spunk in righteous retribution for this prank-gone-wrong. Once emptied, I groaned and sat back in my chair and looked down at Mom. She had managed to capture most of my creamy emissions and was looking up at me with her big doe eyes and a puddle in her palm, my greasy cock splitting her smiling face in two.

"Napkin, please," she asked as if that was a perfectly normal request following what had just transpired in our dining room. I acquiesced, reaching out to the holder and flinging a pair of paper squares down to her. The burning was slowly starting to come back and I was dreading the rest of my evening. The thought of putting my pants back on sent shivers down my spine and the thought of not doing so sent shivers someplace else. Luckily, I had the day off tomorrow and could recuperate in relative peace, provided my little she-devil of a mother deemed to allow it.

Mom got up and sat beside me. Her face was pink, but she didn't seem overly ashamed at what had just gone down under the table. "Feel better?"

"A little," I said. I couldn't lie; Mom did make me feel better. But the heat was coming back with a vengeance and I knew it would be some time until it subsided to the point of being bearable. I groaned and murmured, "I'm gonna go lie down."

"Alright, dear. I'm sorry. If I'd known..."

"My own damn fault," I muttered and stood with a grimace. How the hell could she have known? I'm lucky my whole body wasn't on fire. Regardless, I wouldn't let her take the blame for my own perverted actions. If I hadn't buried my middle finger inside her that morning, none of this would have happened.

"I'll check on you before I go to bed," she offered, clearly distraught at the suffering she was causing me.

"Whatever." I didn't care; I only wanted away from that infernal woman and to lie in my own misery for a spell.

I went into my room and curled up into a ball and did all I could to keep from crying myself to sleep. I drifted off eventually, only to fall into the most peaceful of dreams. I was laying on my back and my dick was aflame. I was twisting in agony with sweat soaking the blankets when all of a sudden an angel came and doused the torturous inferno and took me into her icy-cold hands. It felt so real and wonderful and a calm relaxing peacefulness fell over me as could only be achieved in the deepest of sleep. Then something felt off; it was too real. My mind rejected its slumbering subconscious and my eyes shot open.

"Marm!" I garbled in sleepy surprise.

"Shh, dear, just trying to make you feel better." Her little hands were wrapped around my cock again, slowly and methodically massaging antihistamine cream into my raw skin. My red rod stood straight up in her grasp and she was knelt at my side wearing a silk nightgown that draped loosely over her petite frame. I could see her two pointed nipples jabbing through the thin fabric and how they jostled and rubbed against the nightie as she worked her arms up and down. Much like that morning, my sleep-addled brain surrendered control and I lifted a hand, reaching up under her arm, and cupped one of those tender peaches. I rolled it in my palm and brushed over its stiff hard pebble. Mom leaned down, giving me permission to continue my exploration of her soft pliable mounds while she worked her palms slowly up and down my burning shaft.

I didn't want to stop fondling her dangling breasts but the slow continuous stroking quickly triggered another eruption and I groaned, lifting my hips from the mattress and into her clutches.

"There you go, Dax; let Mom make you feel good," she purred with my hand clenched tight around her perky tit.

I lost it with those words and shot a load of epic proportions up to my chest. I felt like I'd never stop, partly because Mom wouldn't stop. She milked my throbbing shaft and squeezed my balls as I heaved and moaned and sprayed strings of viscous white cum all over my belly. I made a mess, and then it was gone. Mom leaned down and started slurping up my sticky goo and dragging that cute little pink tongue up and down my torso. I could feel her hot breath against my skin as she cleaned up every last drop. I'd never had a chick go crazy for my spunk before, let alone seek to inhale it from my body with such enthusiasm.

Mom sat back on her feet and licked her lips. I watched those little titties bounce and sway beneath her silk nightie. She giggled, shaking her shoulders like she knew exactly where my gaze was fixed; just as I'd done with my cock in the shower that morning. Turnabout's fair play, I suppose, so I reached up and grabbed one in each hand. Mom wasn't having it though, the little tease grabbed my wrists and forced me away. Then she reached out and gave my healing cock a pat and said, "Good night." She hopped off my bed like a naughty schoolgirl and I watched with wide eyes as silk hugged her narrow curves and swished side to side while her jiggly apple-bottom bounced out the door.

"Fuck!" I blurted aloud to no one but myself. It'd be another hour or so until I finally fell asleep again. Even as I drifted off, I couldn't get the pictures of what she'd just done out of my head.

I slept in as late as I was able. I'd never been a morning person and my work usually started early so during rare days off I took full advantage. My junk still burned, but it was more of a dull ache now rather than the fiery hornet's nest of the night before. I investigated the damage; my palm was red but I hardly felt that; my cock, on the other hand, was a mottled crimson of rashy ugliness. I couldn't bear the thought of putting on pants, let alone a pair of underwear. Even the relative softness of my bed sheets felt like sandpaper as I threw them off and sat on the edge of my bed.

I didn't know what to do but I had to get something to eat; my stomach gurgled and cramped. I picked up a dirty t-shirt and held it in front of my scarred manhood and stuck my head out the door. The coast was clear, so I ran out into the kitchen and one-handedly fixed myself a sandwich. Just as I was ready to duck back into my room, I heard a sound coming from Mom's room. It seemed like she was watching porn; a girl was moaning and saying all kinds of nasty stuff. Then I got closer and could finally hear with clarity.

"That's it baby, fuck me! Harder!"

Jesus Christ! That's Mom's voice! She was in there working herself up to a lather. I had no idea she even practiced the art of self-gratification. I can't say I'm surprised; it's just that she tended to be a little more discreet about things of that nature. Our tight living quarters lead to some embarrassing encounters over the years, but I was always on the receiving end and Mom was too shell-shocked to do much besides scream an apology or tell me to take a cold shower.

Those memories pushed a wicked idea into my head, but I had to have a closer look before I could tell if it was feasible. I gently opened her door and crammed an eyeball in the crack, hoping she wasn't looking in my direction. No worries there, sweet little Ma was sky high, supine on the mattress with her feet in the air and hands between her legs. I couldn't see the good parts because her blankets were all bunched up, but I was able to deduce that my plan would work.

I hurried back to the kitchen and filled a gallon pitcher with cold water then returned to her door. I'd long since abandoned the old t-shirt and my sandwich and was spectacularly naked, flopping around the apartment as I dashed to and fro in a state of excited anticipation. I was so worked up with what I was about to do that the pain in my groin had ceased to be more than a mild annoyance.

Looking back into her room, I watched a few moments longer as she plowed an unseeable device in and out of her tight little pussy. Gods I wished I could turn into a fly on that wall. I gave it a little bit longer, my cock now rigid though offering no distraction as I focused intently on my retribution.

I kicked open the door and at that split second heard Mom cry out. "Yes! Fuck meeee! Daaaax!" Her body shook and she collapsed flat on the bed as I unleashed a bucket of cold water in her direction, seeking to douse her passions as she'd often suggested I do when she caught me in the act of self-pleasure.

Everything slowed down as her words sunk in and I watched the cascade of frigid liquid arc over her bed. Fuck! In hindsight, maybe this wasn't the best plan. She was fantasizing about me being inside her and I sure as shit just blew the doors off that deep dark secret.

"Dax!" she screamed, trying to pull her blankets up and cover her shame as a deluge of icy cold water rained down on her naked body.

"You bastard!"

Christ Ma, low blow, it's not exactly my fault I'm a bastard. Suffice it to say, I got the hell out of there in a hurry, my big stiff cock zigging and zagging as I ducked through the door and scurried back into my own private sanctuary. I heard Mom outside in the hall cursing and banging around, likely stripping her bed and loading up the dryer. I felt bad; I screwed something up that I never knew I wanted; well, at least since the air horn incident.

Dammit! I got up and stuck my head out the doorway. "Mom? You alright?"

She came to my door with a half-wet sheet wrapped around her body. "That wasn't very nice! I'm freezing cold!" she cried, her face was bright red, though it'd likely been that way well before I launched my surprise attack. Her lips were pale and I could see her jaw vibrating like she meant what she'd said. Ma always got cold; I'd wager it was part of being so small and skinny.

"Neither was this!" I said and stuck my red piebald cock out the gap in my door.

"I said sorry about that! Twice!" she whined through her clenched jaw.

Her words hit a soft spot; she really had tried, and she did far more than I ever dreamed she'd consider doing. So there we stood; my cock was burning up again and her lean body was shivering with cold. Maybe we'd taken our silly games a little too far. I felt bad; so please believe me when I say it was with the purest intentions that I stepped outside my room, naked as the day she'd given birth to me, and wrapped my arms around Mom's trembling body. I rubbed my hands up and down her sides and tried to warm her narrow quivering torso the only way I could think to try.

"Why don't you take a hot shower?" I offered. Mom looked at me and gave me one of her patented flirty smirks. I'd seen that look before, but never directed my way; it was always aimed at some toolbag she'd brought home from the bar. Her arms flew out with her hands clenching the sheet wrapped around her body like a superhero cape. I caught a momentary flash of that trimmed bush and those two pokey nips before she circled my chest with her arms and flew into my nakedness, trying to bury herself in my heat. Gods, she felt good all bundled up in my arms with nothing between us but our skin.

"This is nice," Mom purred as her chattering teeth came to rest. I held her tight, feeling her two pert swells pressing against my body. Every time she shifted her stiff points would drag across my skin and remind me of how close and how naked she was.

"Sheet's half wet," I said, unsure what I intended to do about it but there was a cold spot between my shoulder blades and it wasn't exactly helping with my intended goal of bringing warmth

"That's your own damn fault," Mom said and then giggled, nuzzling her dark hair into the crook of my shoulder.

I felt the need to poke the bear since she seemed to be in such a good mood. "What were you doing in there, Ma?"

Mom sighed. "You know exactly what I was doing for Christ's sake."

"I didn't see nothing," I said, partially telling the truth.

"Sure, you didn't."

"I heard what you said though."

Mom whimpered and then looked up at me. "I...I...I..." she stammered.

I didn't let her finish. "Ah, Ma, you don't need to be sorry."

I leaned down and kissed her then. Kissed her hard, like I meant it. Not like I was her son; like I wanted to tell her something that I'd probably screw up if I used words to say. Our tongues tangled and she moaned into my mouth as we danced and held our naked bodies close. She dropped the sheet and our hands started moving. I reached down for that tight round yoga ass and squeezed, kneading her firmness in circles. She did the same, sliding down my flanks and grasping my backside with her two tiny little claws. I felt her fingers dig into my skin and slide through my crack as she pulled at me while I pulled back at her. My cock raged, folded and pressing hard into her belly, trapped between the intensity of our embrace.

Then I did something I realized I'd wanted to do for some time. I picked her up and slung her over my shoulder and hauled her into my bedroom. She squealed and howled until I threw her onto my mattress.

"Dax?! What are you doing?" she gasped with her feet splayed out and hair a mess.

I pounced between her legs and held her down, staring into her pinkness. "I'm saying sorry," I muttered.

I dropped my head and kissed down her taut stomach, feeling her lift her short toned legs and raise her feet skyward as I pressed my broad chest onto her center. I reached the strip that pointed to her treasure and lingered, kissing up and down either side, feeling little prickles where her hair had started to grow back. I licked between her legs and along every inch of skin that I could reach before I finally slipped between her lips. She howled and bucked her hips but I forced her down, holding her legs back with two strong hands and pressing her into the bed. She couldn't have got away at that point if she wanted to, not that she showed any signs of wishing to be elsewhere.

I dove my tongue deep between her dainty pink folds and felt her two puffy lips wrap around my cheeks. I tasted her bittersweet musk and reveled in the softness and wetness that I found buried between her thighs. My sweet little mom's sweet little pussy was all that I had a mind for at that moment and I licked and sucked and poked and prodded every fold and flap and hard nub I could lay my lips upon. I dove into her tight tunnel, feeling her squeeze and squeal as my face pressed against her clit and sent electric shocks through her flailing body. Then I slowed, lapping up the length of her narrow inner lips until I reached their crest and felt her swollen clit slide across my tongue. I pursed my lips and inhaled, pulling in every ripple of pink flesh that surrounded it with a wet slurp.