No Illusions

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Son loses sight saving his single mom; she cares for him.
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clinton09
clinton09
1,684 Followers

[©2011 BY CLINTON09; ALL CHARACTERS OVER THE AGE OF 18; NO CHARACTERS OR EVENTS ARE CORRECT AS PRESENTED; THIS STORY IS TOLD WITHOUT RESERVE; READER SHOULD TAKE CARE AND CONSIDER LOOKING ELSEWHERE; PLOT IS VERY HARD EDGED; HERE BE DRAGONS; READER MUST BE 25 OR ABOVE.]

CAVEAT: LEAD CHARACTER LOSES SIGHT IN ALTERCATION; LATER A FIGHT IS PORTRAYED WHERE LIVES ARE TAKEN; IF THIS IS BEYOND THE SCOPE OF WHAT YOU ANTICIPATED, THEN PLEASE LOOK ELSEWHERE.

[Son loses sight and must rely on mom for everything; he prays only to have a chance to re-pay her kindness; he gets his chance.]

I have to fill you in, I guess, for you to understand. My wonderful mother was unlucky in the field of romance. Her early dating went poorly, to say the least. Everything culminated when her date took her back to 'his place'. Not only was it a trailer park, but the punk wasn't man enough to do it by himself. He and two of his bumpkin friends did a number on my mom. She was only 18. Her parents were very strict religiously, and thought it just that she should have the shame of this unscheduled pregnancy to teach her about the evils of 'fornication'. So, I was born.

Somehow my mother got the authorities to get off their duff and prosecute those three hooligans. They got sentenced to 15-to-20, for which they served 13 years.

Now, we jump ahead to my 13th year. We lived in another school district from the magnet school that my mother wanted me to attend, so she had to drive me. She slept thru her alarm so many times that I got in the habit of just going in and waking her up. Well, for once her alarm got her up. She was about to dress when I came in to awaken her. I swung the door open and realized my mistake. My gorgeous mother was standing there totally nude. For a moment, I stared at her and she at me. It was total shock. Ever so slowly, one hand covered her perfect 36D boobs while the other covered her sandy blond muff. I apologized and left the room, though that vision was seared into my mind. That was fortunate, as you will understand in a moment.

My mother had a solid career for herself and had become executive secretary to a large local firm. As a result, we lived in a nice home. Unfortunately, it wasn't a fortress. Those three horrible ruffians that had been put into 'stir' by my mom's testimony were all out early for 'good behavior'. We were listed in the phone book, alas, and those guys had had over a dozen years to plan revenge. We lived on a quiet cul de sac, some distance from the rest of the neighbors. So, it was just a matter of a pane of glass in our sun room for them to get in.

I heard the scuffle in my mom's room and rushed in to help. I was but 13 and hardly an athlete at the time. The three ex-cons were tanked up. They had my mom on her bed with most of her clothes in tatters when I came in. In desperation, I moved forward in a hopeless kamikaze charge. My mother watched as they left her alone and proceeded to take me apart. By the end of the fight, I was not much more than a heap.

As they drunkenly congratulated each other, spotlights filled the room. Mom's door burst open as the police had been alerted by our home security service. The three of them were taken away, never to see the light of freedom again. My mother, thank God, was only scratched and would recover perfectly. I, on the other hand, had to be life-flighted to the university hospital.

They had to prepare my mom before she saw me. I was in bandages from head to toe. When she asked about the prognosis, they said I should physically recover, but that the 'occipital insult had a bad result, the trauma inducing a loss of vision.' I could not see. You can only imagine what thoughts permeated my mind at that point.

My mom offered to quit her job to take care of me 24/7. She said that the insurance policy that she had taken out on me covered this for $250,000 which would allow her to just get by without working.

I thanked her but said that we could try some arrangement where I was home alone. I could hear her stifling her tears every time she spoke.

Every time she saw me, she would kiss my forehead and whisper into my ear: "You saved me" before leaving the room. At those moments, my mother knew that there was at least one male she could trust without fear.

I was supposed to be home schooled. My mom couldn't both do that and work at the same time. She was derelict in her duty, I suppose. I was not much for Braille and had to listen to talking books. So, I got into a regimen. After mother went to work, I would listen on the cassette to the lesson of the day. At first I just sat there, as I was supposed to. Soon, I prevailed in a discussion with mom and got an exercise chair to sit and work out as I listened. I ended up with headphones as I worked on the tension exercises.

For almost five years I did just that. By my 18th birthday, I knew just enough of my lessons and Braille to pass the high school graduation test. My mom was so proud.

My mom had been promoted at work and was in a good mood. She was surprised that I had learned enough to pass the test and do so well. She asked what I wanted for my 18th birthday.

Me: "I guess some new Braille books, maybe even Playboy in Braille if they still make them."

Mom: "Sweetheart, is that ALL you want. Tell mommy what you want...I owe you so much, so very very much. Please, dear, I must know what will make you happy."

Me: "Mom, just knowing that at the end of the day you will be there is all that I really want."

She bent down and kissed me on the forehead, whispering "You saved me" as she always did.

The next night after a wonderful meal (pork chops and apple sauce, my favorite) we 'watched' TV together. As usual I had on my headphones for a description and narration of the action. Mom walked me to my room, though it was not necessary. Then something different occurred.

Although mom closed the door as always when she left, she always wondered how I managed to get ready for bed and safely tuck myself in. She decided to see for herself. Knowing that I couldn't see her watching, she actually put a folding chair just outside the door way and sat.

I fumbled my way to the edge of one bed (there were two double beds in my room.) Thereupon, I stripped off my clothes. She already knew that I had a phenomenal physique. It made sense, since I attended 'school' for 40 hours a week for five years, every minute of which I was also exercising on that chair.

Anyway, on this night, I got ready for bed, only bumping into furniture twice. My mom also knew what I looked like without clothes, having had to help me in and out of the shower and my clothes. After I finished in the bathroom, I laid on my bed, nude. I reached for the Playboy in Braille. To her amazement, I started 'touching myself' down there. I had always been a modest four or five inches and it hanged loosely. For the first time, she saw me 'yank my crank' and was mesmerized.

That spell was broken when I stopped in 'mid-stroke'. I threw the Playboy against the wall, furious that Braille could not present any visual excitement. I had only one image, one reference to call on. It was one from years ago, when I happened to see my own beautiful mother by mistake.

Me: "Oh, God, mommy, I can still see you. No, please don't cover them up. Mommy, they're so big...so beautiful. Did you let me drink from them when I was a baby? Mom, the nipples are so big...God, what I wouldn't give to feel them in my mouth, to drink one last time. And that OTHER part of you. Please, mom, don't cover that up. I don't even know why I want to see that. It looks so warm, so welcoming. When I think of you down there, my thing gets all stiff; it grows and grows and grows. And those things below it get so big, so swollen. What I wouldn't give to be able to pump what is inside of those things into the deepest, warmest, wettest part of you, mommy."

My mother was thunderstruck by this. My hand was going at light speed, my balls the size of large oranges. All of a sudden, my hand was stopped in its tracks. Then, I felt the soft, pliant lips of my mother. She kissed me, and then kissed my forehead. She bent over and whispered 'You saved me'. Then I felt her climb on board of me. Her delicate hand grasped my private part. I could not know that I was now fully ten inches at full erection, or that it was considered large. All I knew was that her hand directed me into a place of warmth, tightness, and an overwhelming feeling of welcome and security. Wherever that place was, I didn't want to ever leave.

She began moving up and down upon me. As the warm, wet walls of her insides clung to my cock, I felt waves of pleasure I had never experienced or imagined. During every third stroke, she also bent down to brush my lips with hers. My hands reached out desperately searching for her breasts. I found them and somehow knew enough to stroke the erect thumb-sized knobs. Mom moaned in pleasure. She stopped, my cock fully extended at ten manly inches. Mom had what I think they call an 'orgasm' as she shouted in ecstasy. Then she resumed. She did that four times before stopping again.

Mom: "Sweetheart, do you feel close to letting go?" [Amazingly enough, I had 'touched myself' before but had never actually gone the whole route. I had years of stored up spunk, and the passion that went with it. Almost all of it was generated by that image of my gorgeous plump breasted, shapely legged, blonde haired, blue eyed mother that I had seen by mistake all those years ago.]

Me: "Mommy, do you mean that thing that my cock does according to that talk we had a few months ago?"

Mom: "Yes, dear. When a man gets excited, he shoots cum out of his cock. It's supposed to be related to the woman he loves; his cum has sperm which is supposed to make babies. Is that what you want...to shoot your cum? Do you want mommy to have your sperm? Do you want mommy to have your babies?"

Me: "Oh yes, Yes, YES! God, mommy, I want so much to put my sperm inside of you. If there was even the slightest chance that you could have a baby...MY baby...that would make up for everything. You said once that you owed me for your life, and that you would give me anything. Well, mom, please take my sperm inside of you. Let me get you pregnant. Carry that baby, give birth, and take care of my baby...our baby."

Mom didn't say a word. She swooned down and kissed me. Then, as always, she kissed me on the forehead and bent to my ear:

Mom: "You saved me. Please give me a baby. Sweetheart, I need you to push inside of me as deeply as you can. Then do what comes naturally, letting yourself go. After that, don't pull out. I need you to stay there for awhile so that your cum, your sperm gets into the right places. Can you do that for mommy?"

Well, I did my best. I rose up from the bed while holding her warm, soft behind tightly in my powerful hands. With a mighty grunt, I finally came, venting years of pent-up passion and love deeply inside of mom's very fertile and totally unprotected womb. My testes had been the size of two fists; after a dozen powerful jets of live-giving seed, they now sagged deflated down to the bedsheets. All of that baby-making sperm now sloshed within her womb.

As we lay together on my bed, my cock still hard, still deep inside of her, still oozing potent seed, we kissed and cuddled. We found warmth and security within each others' arms. We slept that way, with us on our sides, my ten inch pole still hard and attaching us together. Two hours later, we were awakened by the lightning and thunder of a distant summer storm. We kissed in the dark, and hugged even tighter. Mom kissed me on the forehead then whispered: "You saved me" in my ear. At that precise moment, unknown to either one of us, my beautiful mother conceived.

Our love life from that day forward was constant and intense. We made love at least once every night when mom worked, with four love sessions on weekends. When mom's belly got too swollen for us to do it, she let me bring her off with loving attention from my hands or face. For my part, she would 'do the honors' on me. The first time that she 'yanked my crank' she had deployed a white towel on the bed, hoping that it would end up there if she bent me downwards. Instead, as I made my normal manly grunt, my seed was projected across the room, knocking over my Boy Scout awards and trophies on the bookshelf.

She learned her lesson and would instead cap me with a condom. So, to alleviate my powerful sex drive, mom would sit on a chair by my bed. With her left hand, she would stroke my huge ten inch pole. She would then bend over and kiss my lips, describing how sexy she looked and what nasty things we would do after the baby was born. That always worked.

If you ever filled a Glad bag with water from the faucet that was the sound of my powerful spend being used to fill that condom. When it was finished, the poor thing was filled like a balloon. In fact, when she whispered that she was heavy with child, with MY child, that was too much. With a noisy POP, that condom burst with the ocean of sperm-laden cum splashing all over the bed and down to the carpet. We both giggled and then kissed.

About eight months into her pregnancy, we did what I described above. The difference was, instead of just kissing me, mom stood up and bent over. Where I expected her pliant, warm, lips, I instead felt this protuberance brushing my mouth. Yes, it was a pouting erect nipple! As I instinctively brushed my tongue and drew with my lips, I got the most pleasant surprise in my life. My mouth was rewarded with a splash of breastmilk! So warm, so sweet! God, how I had dreamt of that!

As I suckled the warm milk, mom 'watched' as that balloon filled up. Zit, zit, zit were the splashes from my 'squirtgun' as I matched each mouthful of her sustenance with my potent seed. Unknown to me, mom would carefully store the balloons of seed in the freezer, just in case we ever needed them. We ended up with nine of them, kept in a box deep in the separate chest freezer.

Throughout all of this time, I had kept up my regimen of workouts. Even with no school lessons, I kept learning from talking books as I relentlessly worked out. Mom finally had to step in and moderate my exercise, for I could no longer comb my hair or raise my arms. I had over-trained and was almost completely musclebound for a while.

That wasn't necessarily a disaster, as my mother would spend long nights massaging me, soothing those aching muscles. It did a lot to ease the strain of all that muscle mass in tension. Of course, she also enjoyed feeling my almost perfect physique. I of course couldn't see her as she sometimes took a tape measure to me. She would purr that I was now eleven inches in length, or twenty-two inches around my arms. It meant nothing to me, but sure got her motors running.

Mom was making enough that she could hire a woman to take care of it, and me, during the workweek. On weekends, she was off. I was now 20, my mom 38.

One Saturday, we were home alone as usual. We weren't the type to 'watch' TV all that much, which was unfortunate. There was an all points bulletin about three convicts that had escaped from the prison infirmary. The three, lifers, had feigned illness. They had done all of this not only to escape that dungeon but also to have one last shot at revenge. My mother and I never dreamt that we would encounter them again. My still beautiful mom was within days of a scheduled induced delivery.

They had been forced to hear about the injuries they had inflicted upon me during trial, so they knew I was without sight. They actually broke in the exact same way and found me and mom in bed together.

Con#1: "Isn't that sweet. Mother and child sharing a bed. I think it's time that we dealt with that bitch once and for all. Too bad that he can't watch! Best of all, she's pregnant; I guess we get double points for our fun while Stevie Wonder over there listens."

They all laughed as they moved to drag my mom out of bed. I leaped out of bed, hitting the light switch on the wall, dousing the lights in that room. It was three to one, but I was used to darkness and was armed with colossal muscle power greatly amplified by the emergency. In a truly titanic battle, I dispatched all three intruders before they could harm my beautiful mother or the precious life within her. Mom restored the lights, shocked that those three escapees from hell had almost gotten us. The only one standing in that room was her son, looking like Hercules, but covered in sweat and the residue of a battle to the death.

Mom: "Oh, God, sweetheart, I think it's time!"

Sure enough, all of that excitement was enough to induce labor in and of itself. We called the 9-1-1 about the entire matter. That got mom an ambulance, thank God.

Two weeks later, just about everything was wrapped up nicely. We were of course 'no billed' as to the events in our home. Once they knew we weren't culpable and thus could execute a contract for profit, we were offered an e-book deal for our life story. That money would really come in handy, for the third bit of news was that mom had delivered a bouncing baby boy.

After only a few weeks, we had settled in. Our live-in woman took care of the new born. I had had several weeks of 'celibacy' and was really 'raring to go'.

One time mom came to our room, after having checked on the baby. She was surprised that I wanted to do her (in the worst way). But, I lay on the bed, my length tool rigid and ready. She ignored what she was seeing (surely, it was too soon to do 'it' again.) Mom picked up the phone and reached her best friend. Just as she started to talk...

To her amazement, I came forward, feeling for her hand and that phone. I took the phone firmly and put it on the nightstand. I picked up my loving mother and gently placed her on her bed. I was breathing heavily, just dreaming of this moment. But, for the first time in my adult life, I felt like I was alive. I flexed my bulging biceps in triumph and mounted my beautiful mom. My penis was a full eleven inches and quickly found the slot. Mom moaned in pleasure, utterly stunned at this turn of events. Just having returned from the nursery, here was her son about to make love and, perhaps, another baby.

With no time or inclination for the 'preliminaries', I went directly to the task of applying hard cock to sopping pussy. I pounded mom's once again incredibly fertile cunt with my babymaker. Three times mom moaned in orgasmic rapture. The fourth time was when I was tapping against her cervix, my mighty cockhead about to unleash an ocean of warm love. As our lips met, that little slit down there expanded to the size of a quarter. My genetic army, made up of millions of tiny 'soldiers', was unleashed upon her fertile womb. I finally fell over exhausted.

Mom then made the belated call back to her friend. If I could see, I would have been quite proud; mom's pussy dripped out excess sperm-laden cum in a thick waterfall. I had pumped so much seed in there that it dripped out in a torrent; it didn't stop dripping out all night.

It was a strange existence that I had, but a happy one. For eight more years, I did nothing but work out and make love to my beautiful mother. For eight years she repeated the cycle of love, pregnancy, mother's milk, more love, and finally giving birth. When we reached the tenth child, mom decided she had worked long enough and switched her job to part-time, work at home. If there was any benefit to being without sight, it was that my mother was as beautiful to me on her 75th birthday as she was on her 40th.

On the night before she passed away, we made love one final time. Though she felt slightly softer, I too was not the Adonis I had been in my youth. Nonetheless, when her lips met mine, as she stifled her orgasm so that the neighbors couldn't hear, I vented my eternal love deep inside of her. On our final night together, I pumped my seed deeply inside of her treasured womb, with as much enthusiasm as I had when first we made love.

clinton09
clinton09
1,684 Followers
12