Doin' Hard Time

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Mom helps free son from jail and get back at accuser.
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clinton09
clinton09
1,682 Followers

[©2010 BY CLINTON09; ALL CHARACTERS OVER THE AGE OF 18; NO EVENTS DESCRIBED ARE TRUE; STORIES HAVE A 'HARDER EDGE' THAN MOST; BE WARNED; HERE BE DRAGONS]

*

I put down the enormous barbell, weighted down with an incredible 400 lbs. Huffing and puffing, I looked into the crude mirror and flexed my young burgeoning muscles. It was all you had to do in prison, and I was not above it, even if I was only just turned 18. I had vowed revenge on the person or persons who had 'set me up' and put me 'in the joint'. Flexing 'my new guns', I myself was impressed and surprised at the mountainous 24 inch bulging biceps that graced my densely packed arms, the prominent veins highlighting the chiseled muscle, the incredible power in these guns. They all were dedicated to my revenge scheme. It was a painful thought that all of this pointed back to my own father...as he was the one that had put me away. So, I digress...

When I was just 16, I was living alone with my gorgeous mom and her high placed executive husband, my father. Dad was 51, going on 71 it seemed. Already he was a 'chrome dome' with small tufts of white hair surrounding a shiny pate where once stood hair. A bit paunchy, his 3 piece suit covered up some of his shortcomings, especially his REAL shortcoming, a three inch penis. It was a pity that mom had to try to satisfy herself on that tiny joke.

Mom was only 38, which was her prime, really. Running 2 miles a day, with a daily home gym regimen, mom was in great shape. She was blonde (as long as she got to the beauty parlor once a month) with blue eyes, a big white toothed smile framed by pouting ruby lips, and a mature MILF figure, with big tits, a firm behind, and shapely legs. She had that tattoo on her right ankle that every hot babe in Hollywood sported. Even her feet were sexy, with perfect formed nails coated cherry red. My mom...

One day I was cleaning the pool as mom finished her workout in the spare bedroom and was walking past the big picture window (overlooking the pool and patio). She stopped as if mesmerized. She was not enthralled with me, though her nasty and vindictive husband, Mal, thought as much. No, Sue (my mom) was absorbed with a decorating idea for the patio that would double its capacity for parties, normally entertaining Mal's fellow directors of his corporation. However, he thought she was hot for me. He vowed that that would not be tolerated, not in HIS house.

Some big corporations have 'fixers', employees or affiliates who could get things done 'unofficially'. As the corporation headquarters where we lived dominated the town, getting the corrupt sheriff's office to entrap someone was neither difficult nor costly. The packet of meth that they 'discovered in my trunk' during a routine stop for speeding put me away for five to ten years, mandatory. Of course, though only 16, he managed to get me tried as an adult, too.

So here I was, two years later. Almost tripping over the barbell holding every iron weight I had, I admired my newly acquired rippling muscles. I was proud that I had begged and finally convinced my mom to visit me. My youthful mom would certainly look the part. (you see, I lied and said that she was my girl from home, a slightly older woman.) I had never had the slightest 'designs' on my gorgeous mom, nor she on me. So, seeing her in the conjugal trailer would be absolutely innocent...it was just that I wanted privacy; the alternative was the visitation window, where every single word was observed and video recorded.

Mom was led to the trailer; I helped her up the shaky aluminum step ladder. She was wearing a tight chiffon blouse, revealing tight skirt that was mid-thigh in length, six inch high slides with a clear plastic single strap. She was the vision of mature MILF sex appeal, a soccer mom whose minivan should have been filled with four, eight, maybe a dozen children. Instead, her tiny equipped husband kept her entertained over the years with a few drips or drops of his sterile baby-free batter, ensuring yet another childless marital year.

Once safely inside the trailer, we hugged profusely. It had been a solid year since she had last visited; she was amazed at how I had changed, matured, developed. She had me 'make a muscle for mommy' and spent a good 10 minutes stroking, caressing, and cooing over the finely cut, bulging bicep that was so huge that I could barely move my arms. Mom warned me I had to maintain flexibility, so I stopped the upward progression of barbell total weight at 500 lbs.

I asked her if she had made any progress in getting the local newspaper or university to look into my conviction.

She finally had good news; the campus muckraking editor had used a comely co-ed stringer to loosen the tongue of a constable. It turns out that the re-election support from father's company for the sheriff was illegal per a decade old law. Free travel for the cops at the company's Caribbean retreat was also not 'kosher'.

The constable who opened up, after a few drinks and a 'lude' or two, admitted to doing some 'set-up' jobs, including mine!

At this point, mom hugged me almost desperately. She said, "God, Jimmy, I am so sorry. I believed him when he said you were just plain bad, a drug buying/dealing punk. I had no idea he was just jealous and wanted you out of the house. I never dreamt he would sink so low as to 'set up' his very own son, my handsome strapping son Jimmy (she kissed me on the lips, very non-motherly.)"

Being locked away as I was, I cupped, hefted, and caressed mom's jutting bust line. Sympathetic to the deprivations that I had been wrongly subjected to, she said not a word in protest. She felt her nipples gently pop, then throb until they prominently pushed out the micro thin material of the blouse. I openly stared, mesmerized, almost drooling. I caressed those erect nipples, as mom closed her eyes and moaned in pleasure, a first for the two of us. It had been so long, though, for both of us.

The crude, worn out prison issue underwear that I wore was more like a strap than jockeys at this point. And now, as I got hard for the 1st time in months, you could hear, clearly in that small but stone silent trailer, that strap stretching, stretching the material. Finally, a tear, a release, and my magnificent tool had broken free, rising above the prison pants, above my navel, and only stopping just below my chest. A full eleven inches of manhood finally came forth from a mature, virile, supercharged, prison hunk. It could easily have stayed under my prison shirt, but fate had it erect in plain view. Mom's eyes grew like saucers, almost like those eyes in the cartoons that blow up like balloons.

She only said: "God forgive me, Jimmy!" Without further ado, her shaking hands gripped that mighty love pole, one hand gripping the lengthy pole, keyholing it to its ultimate release. Her other motherly hand lovingly cupped and hefted my manly sac, weighted down with months and months of pent-up cream.

All of those dreams of women from TV and the movies, never thinking of mom (cause it would be wrong.) Only later did I realize that those odd dreams I had that left me with 'morning wood', dreams of a vision of blond sex appeal, those dreams were of my very own mom...

As mom's hands sensed their duty, their mission, the upper hand became a blur of motion, determined to release her baby's pent-up passion. As the huge uncut head of my cock started to swell, she knew that she had to find somewhere to put it all. No way was she going to try and deepthroat six months of pent-up passion. Desperate, she saw an empty, washed out milk bottle, one with the old—timey wide mouth opening.

At the last moment, she steered my magnificent cock into that bottle. The power of my release, those powerful blasts of sperm-laden semen, almost knocked the bottle out of her hand. Splash, splash, splash, my eleven inch white mamba kept spitting. It took fully two minutes of uninterrupted ejaculating to release the enormous spend.

After we both caught our breath, mom was staggered; the milk bottle was a quart and it was virtually full now. I didn't even take notice that she did not immediately pour out that goop down the drain of that tiny sink in the trailer. Instead, she lightly kissed the bottle, restoring its plastic seal, and gently placed it into the tiny college boy fridge.

Mom vowed: "Sweetheart, this is the last month, no WEEK that you will be serving time. You will be freed by next week, I swear!" We kissed, passionately, already no longer mother and son, but something more. She related her plans to free me, together with the public defender's office and the wonderful "Innocence Project" that had freed so many others wrongly accused.

Sure enough, by the next month, I was released with apologies. The state offered $500,000 for wrongful imprisonment, which I gladly accepted. This was just a fraction of the 'payback' that I sought, the payback that mom and I plotted that fateful meeting in the trailer.

I arrived home and he was there. He looked upon this day with dread, knowing that I had complete power over him. Little did he know that I also had sheer muscle power over him too (he hadn't seen me in ages.) So, when he rushed to see me, anxious to re-establish his 'man of the house' thing that had landed me (wrongly) in prison, he was stopped dead in his tracks. I wore an old-fashioned t-shirt, and he could clearly see my mile wide shoulders and my arms, larger than any he had ever seen including those bodybuilders on TV.

He literally got on his knees, blubbering that I shouldn't hurt him, that he just made a mistake, that if I wanted to hit someone, I should hit my mom who did nothing to save me at the time. His offering of my mom as 'punching bag' really ticked me off (and mom too.)

Mom said: "Grab a hold of him, honey, I want him to see something." I grabbed him and held him in a viselike grip.

Mom went to the desk in her room, then wiggled to the kitchen, her heavy breasts bouncing and bouncing. She carried something from both rooms. She presented the secret calendar she kept in the desk, showing him that today was her peak fertility day.

She then 'put on a mini show'. From the fridge, she had gotten, yes, that same quart bottle of seed that she had extracted that fateful day in the trailer. Mom then proceeded to open her skirt, revealing these hot pink, crotchless panties. She took a big funnel from the fridge, warming it briefly in her hands. She then proceeded to recline on the couch before us. He watched in goggle eyed amazement as she placed the funnel inside the lips of her fertile vagina, pushing it downward a little, thereupon she poured every drop of that quart bottle down into the dark fertile depths of her womb. He watched in horror as millions upon millions of my young potent sperm were emptied into mom's waiting, very receptive, and oh so very fertile vagina. On and on she poured, filling herself up. Once the potent liquid had been absorbed or flowed deeper inside her reproductive system, she poured more and more until it was gone. Then, as he stared, she put a couch pillow under her pert behind. We all waited in silence for 30 minutes, letting my guys have the best crack of impregnation.

Mom finally got up. She went up to him, an intimidated wimp who now cowered before us, knowing that at any time we could have him busted for conspiracy in re my incarceration. Mom almost spat as she said: "That was almost a quart of Jimmy's precious seed. The three of us will work at getting me pregnant, which is only fair. You will get to watch as your legally married wife is seeded again and again, the intent to make up for lost time. It's almost perfect justice; the children that I wanted, that you didn't want—but actually could not make. The family that Jimmy should've had, one made impossible by his false imprisonment. It is so neat and tidy, that we can correct both wrongs with one right. So, Jimmy is going to breed me for the next three days, right before your eyes. Plus, I told him, ordered him, to give you a 'taste' of what life was like in 'the joint' for him."

I tied him to a living room upright chair, and then gave him a moderate jab...right between the legs. He groaned in pain, doubling over. I then put another upright chair in front of him, motioned mom over. I barked commands for her to disrobe, to get nude! I caressed mom's perfect breasts, fantasizing about the sweet, warm mother's milk that was in them so many years ago for my innocent mouth. I imagined having it return, now to feed the babies that I put in her, and perhaps to reward me too. I then lifted mom up in my super strong arms and lowered her onto my eleven inch rod. She looked at the ceiling and moaned in pleasure as my warm love pole dragged along the tingling vaginal walls of mom as it proceeded upwards to its ultimate goal.

My chair was sideways to his view so he could see everything. I lowered mom onto my magnificent tool, and then proceeded to raise and lower her as if I was using my beautiful mother as the ultimate sextoy, a simple receptacle for my potent seed. When she murmured that she was close, that I should join her, I rose up from the chair, pushed her tightly to me, and proceeded to coat her entire fertile baby factory in semen containing almost 100% sperm. Catching our breath, mom looked over at him and was stunned to see him pawing his teeny tiny little baby peeny, oddly excited by the carnal display of lust put on by his virile son and incredibly hot (soon to be ex-) wife. Mom told me this; we looked over at him in pity, looked at each other, laughed derisively, and then kissed passionately. Mom went up and down on top of me, immediately restoring me to full manhood. She scampered onto the couch right in front of him, raising her shapely legs, beckoning me to mate with her again.

I happened to notice that he wasn't watching. I went up to him and slapped him around, using a fraction of my prison muscle. With him having a lightly bleeding nose, I barked: "I thought you might be interested, I mean I AM breeding your legally wed wife and all. I thought you would be more interested in watching me make a baby. I can't wait to make your wife's belly swell with my child, her breasts filling with sweet, delicious, mother's milk, all reserved for the needs of that baby, and its father...yours truly. (I flexed my huge muscles, reminding him who was the 'man of the house' now, doing the manly duty of making the babies.) So, you better watch. (I suddenly hit on something that would be a LOT of fun, for mom and me at least.) Oh, and one more thing. Since you can't seem to pay attention to what's important, like mom and I making babies, we expect you to give us a play by play, just to show us you're watching. Everything you see, you call it just like it was on CNN or ESPN. Now go to it!"

He said: "God, this is torture...OK, Jim has mounted my wife Sue. He's flexing his huge muscles, showing off to her. Sue is sitting up, caressing his bulging biceps, telling him how much more of a man he is than his sissy father. Now she is lying back down. Now Jim has brought his ridiculously oversized penis and plopped it onto Sue's forest of pubic hair. He is sawing it back and forth. That cock seems to be growing somehow. Now, Sue has grabbed it and bent it so it brushes lightly against the wet slavering lips of her pussycunt. It looks like that huge cock might be stimulating my wife's clitoris...oh, this is horrible. Now, Jim has pushed into my wife with one manly grunt, somehow fitting every inch of that massive log inside of her. Now, he is removing it completely for some reason, just leaving the large uncut end of it inside of her. Now, he is returning the entire long sausage into my wife's fertile depths. They both just moaned. My wife let out a muffled scream of ecstasy. Lord, I hope it wasn't an orgasm. I wish I had been able to give her one over all these years. Now, another muffled cry; damn, Sue just had another orgasm. Now, Jim has gone absolutely motionless. He is looking at my wife's eyes; now they are kissing with great lust. Now his testes are pulling up tightly in their sacs. Jim's balls are huge, sagging noticeably with seed, no doubt. It's clear to see that, wait, there they go. I can see them expanding and contracting, expanding and contracting. That's three times, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, and...wait...ten times. Jim came deep inside my wife's fertile vagina ten times. That's a lot of seed...they are taking quite a chance that she might get pregnant."

Mom and I lay together motionless for 30 minutes as we helped my swimmers stay in the pool and find the 'goal'. When he asked when he could go, I told him once mom was officially pregnant; he could go with our best wishes.

Using the newest tester which could detect pregnancy one hour after conception, we got two negatives before, after four hours, we got the heavenly blue indicator. Even he was happy, thinking that he could go now and just await a 50/50% split on some quick divorce. Ha!

We let him go. He moved his personal effects out to a long stay hotel. We froze the other assets. He complained bitterly, saying he would bring suit.

Well, he didn't have long to wait to see the new reality. First, our civil attorneys brought a cause of action, asking for and getting a quick resolution and 50/50% property settlement. He was okay with that, breathed a sigh of relief, and thought 'it was all over'.

A few weeks later, with a noisy knock at his door at 11pm, he was arrested under warrant for making a false statement to police, committing perjury in court and on a legal affidavit, conspiracy to commit a felony, and other charges. Eventually, he pled guilty, with the sentence five to ten, and sanctions of $100,000 to the court and $400,000 to the aggrieved party (yours truly) after some civil action. Oh, and we did this carefully AFTER the 50/50 divorce.

So, his comfortable $1million world of assets became $500,000 after the divorce, and THEN the court stepped in, leaving him with $-0-! On the bright side, we now knew where we could find him and visit him. That's right, cell block C, cell 95, solitary. The prison was so embarrassed about the false imprisonment that they actually let mom and I visit him...in his cell! It was unprecedented, and he wasn't exactly thrilled.

There it was, my old weight set. To mom's amusement, he had laboriously stripped off the ten 20 lb. weights on each side that I used to lift. Instead, he had a single 20 lb. weight on each side. Mom whispered in my ear, loud enough for him to hear her say: "Please, honey, for me...one last time, show him what a REAL man can do. Show him how much more of a man YOU are. Please!"

I pushed him aside and started adding weight after weight, weight after weight. Finally, the bar had 200 lb.s of weights on each side, or a 400 lb. barbell. I squatted and with a manly grunt, lift it cleanly above my head, then did 20 curls before dropping it Olympic style. Mom applauded, rushing up to me and grabbing my heaving biceps, her mouth searching out mine. We kissed as I gasped for breath.

Mom gave him his final 'peptalk'. She said: "Mal, I would just like to thank you. Your shenanigans ended up getting Jim ½ of your money plus a matching stipend from the state for false imprisonment. Now you have no wife, no job, no home, and no prospects. We will show up at the parole hearing in 5 years, demanding the full ten year sentence. I hear that just showing up like that always gets parole denied. Well, that's about it...oh, that's right, there IS some good news. Let's see: ultra sound today confirms that Jimmy and I will be expecting triplets in the spring. The fetuses are all male. Jimmy has been given a book deal with an advance of $100,000 about the experience of prison from the wrongly convicted perspective. And finally, those speculative stocks that you invested in WERE a smart investment after all; you WERE right. The nuclear reactor industry and shale oil stock has tripled. Congratulations! Oh, wait, I'm sorry, that's now OUR stock. Well, you will be happy to know that the profit on that stock will pay for a new wing to the old house, for our big new nursery. It's going to be 20 by 20; it will have to be if Jim and I catch up for lost time and make our own little baby boom. That's about it; hope you enjoy your accommodations, and thanks again for everything, Mal...

clinton09
clinton09
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