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Mum and Me - 3
by John Jabbin (jjabbin@yahoo.com)

***

The continuing story of a 15 year old son dominating his 
mum, making her his cum dump and forcing her to enjoy 
it. (mdom/F, inc, teen/adult, d/s)

***

Author Note: Feedback is the only price that most 
authors that post to ASSM ask. If you want to read more, 
you ought to pay the price by letting me know you liked 
this perverse tale. Writers need feedback in order to 
become better writers. If you don't let us know what you 
like, don't complain that there are no good stories. Any 
comments, bad or good, are welcome. Write me at the e-
mail address above.

If you're a minor, don't read this. If it's illegal in 
your country to be in possession of stories about sex, 
please destroy all copies of this work. Practice safe 
sex reading please.

***

PART THREE

Mum was feeling very bad about what we had done on the 
divan. I think she blamed herself more than me, but she 
didn't want to have too much to do with me either.

"Is everything okay, Mum?" I asked her over dinner that 
evening.

"No, John, it's not okay. Twice today I've let things 
get out of hand between you and me and I'm not the least 
bit happy about it."

Mum's hand was lying on the table between us. I reached 
down and took her hand in mine, even though she made a 
bit of effort to take it back. 

"Come now, let me just hold my mum's hand. I'll behave, 
dear. I promise."

With a show of reluctance, she settled down and I held 
her hand tenderly as we ate.

"Mum, I know you're not happy with me just now, but I'd 
like to tell you that today has been a very lovely day 
for me. I feel closer to you than I think I've ever 
been. I've really enjoyed spending the day with you, and 
not just the parts you think. I enjoyed going shopping 
and I enjoyed our meals together. I even enjoyed 
massaging your feet, and I don't mean the naughty part. 
I hope I didn't ruin my chances of getting to rub your 
feet each night for you when you come home from work."

"I don't know about that, John. I don't think that would 
be a good idea."

"I know I'm green and there's a lot I have to learn, but 
I want to be a gentleman and learn to treat a lady 
right."

"Yes, there's still a lot for you to learn, young man, 
but there are some lessons that a mother isn't suppose 
to be teaching her son."

"Then where am I to learn them? The neighborhood girls 
my age can't teach me those lessons. Believe me, I've 
tried." Mum's face grew shocked as the realization of my 
admitted promiscuity dawned on her. "I guess I'll just 
have to find some sympathetic older lady in the 
neighborhood. Are there any gals your age you'd 
recommend?"

"Jonathan! You stop such talk this instant. You're only 
fifteen-years-old, son. You don't have any business with 
a woman my age."

"Well, I was hoping it wouldn't be business, since I 
don't have a job or any money. Okay, I know that was 
cheeky. It was joke, Mum. Not the part about being 
interested in an older woman, I was serious about that."

"Son, you need to take your time and grow up. Just enjoy 
being young and hanging out with your mates."

"Mum, my 'mates,' usually hang around on corners getting 
pissed or trying to get laid, pardon my French.  Now, I 
know you think that just means I need new mates, but it 
isn't that easy. Most of the blokes my age are either 
completely clueless or too very much clued in.  There's 
not a lot of safe, 'middle ground' these days.

"And besides, Mum," I went on, giving Mum's hand a 
little squeeze as I did. "I'd really rather be spending 
my time with the ladies than getting sotted on your 
money or getting into trouble. I'm afraid you've whelped 
an incorrigible philanderer, Mum, even though it's not 
your fault."

"Oh, John! What am I to do with you? You need a man 
around the house to keep you straight, but I've none 
available."

"Don't fret yourself over that, Mum. A lot of the blokes 
I know have men about the house and most of them are 
worse off than me. You've done a good job, so far.  
You're not that disappointed in me, are you now?"

"I'm not disappointed in you, John. You're a bright lad 
and too handsome for your own good. I just wish you'd 
apply yourself to something more constructive."

"Well now, I'm trying to be constructive, Mum, in my own 
way. But let's get back to that 'handsome' thing.  Tell 
me what you think is my best feature," I quipped, 
mugging for her by turning my head from side to side 
giving her a profile.

"You are incorrigible," Mum laughed gaily, squeezing my 
hand.

"Now see, I think that's one of my best features, too. 
I'm glad we agree."

We ate the rest of the meal in a more companionable 
silence. At least I'd pulled Mum out of her funk. She 
still let me hold her hand, but in every other way she 
kept a discreet distance.

Usually I tried to get out and around on Saturday 
evenings, but it was getting late anyway, so I decided 
to stay in. Besides, what I had been telling Mum about 
not really enjoying hanging around a bunch of drunken 
sots was pretty true. The first couple of times I did it 
were fun. Lately it had begun to wear thin.

I don't really like to be drunk myself. I'm the kind 
that likes to stay in control. It was fun getting the 
drunks to do things they might not normally do, to 
exercise a little control over them. But the fun of 
controlling another person for me is when they know you 
control them. When you can get someone to do what you 
want them to do, and get them to love doing it, that's 
what I enjoy most.

But, that didn't mean I wasn't planning to enjoy myself 
tonight. I still had Mum, after all. 

Mum and I did the dishes together. She washed and I 
dried. We hadn't made much of a mess with just the two 
of us, but we enjoyed the time just being together.  
Whenever she would hand me a dish, I'd allow our hands 
to briefly touch. At first, Mum shied away from such 
caresses. But after she realized I could touch her 
without going farther than she felt comfortable going, 
she began to relax again.

"Do you miss not being married, Mum?" I asked her, 
trying to catch her in a softer mood.

"Hmm, that's a good question. I don't miss your Dad. He 
wasn't very nice in the end. But, yes, I do miss being 
married. I enjoyed having a man about the house and 
doing things for him. At least, let's say I miss the 
idea of being married."

"How come you didn't get married again, Mum?"

"I suppose the experience with your Dad made me a little 
jaded. It's not that I'm not interested in finding a 
man, but I'm not in any hurry and he'd have to be the 
right man this next time. I'm not interested in making 
another mess to clean up, physically and emotionally."

"But I haven't seen you date anyone or really be 
interested in a man in a long time, Mum. You can't just 
turn off all those feelings, can you? That doesn't sound 
healthy."

"Well now, John. Suddenly you're interested in my 
emotional health, are you? No, it isn't healthy to try 
and turn off your feelings, dear. I don't think I've 
done that. I'm just trying to be careful. My problem is 
I usually get too emotionally attached."

Mum was tired and it was getting late. I gave her a 
respectable peck on the cheek before she could object 
and she went up to take a bath and go to bed. I watched 
the telle for a bit, but my mind wasn't really in it. 

I kept thinking of Mum and what we'd done and what I'd 
decided. The more we talked and the more that happened, 
the more I was sure that it was the right thing to 
seduce Mum. She wasn't happy right now. She needed a man 
and I couldn't stand the thought of her bringing home 
somebody. It's not that I'd be jealous, although I would 
be. But I couldn't stand some man coming into our home 
thinking he could order me around. I would have definite 
authority problems with that.

With the telle playing low, I fell asleep on the divan.  
When I woke up, hours later, I remembered a vivid dream.

I dreamed that I was rubbing Mum's feet on the divan, 
just like before. Only this time, she was naked. My own 
foot was stretched out between her legs and my toes were 
wiggling in her pubic hair.

Mum was protesting, but I kept rubbing her feet and 
wiggling my toes. My foot became wet with her moisture.  
Mum's nipples were huge and very hard and as she rocked 
on my foot they made little circles in the air. In my 
dream, I watched them, fascinated.

Then I was pushing her backward. It seemed to take 
forever as she leaned back onto her bed. Suddenly, as 
can only happen in a dream, we were in her bed.  She 
went back and back and back until her strawberry blonde 
head hit the pillow. Her curls bounced in slow motion 
around her head and seemed to get closer and closer as I 
moved on top of her.

My dream Mum tried to push me away with her hands, but 
her legs seemed to wrap around me and draw me in. I felt 
my cock sliding into her, even as she protested I should 
stop.

Then we were fucking, slow and steady, and Mum's arms 
were around me and her hips were thrusting up at me, 
too. She was moaning wetly in my ear and grunting every 
time I came down on top of her. I could feel her nipples 
poking into my chest, but it was the little grunts each 
time that drove me wild.

And then she was kneeling before me with my cock sliding 
in and out of Mum's lovely mouth. Her lips were wet and 
slick and she took me deep with every thrust.  As I sped 
up, she moaned and the moaning set off vibrations in my 
prick. When it slid in all the way, her moan was 
punctuated with a grunt as if to put a period to how 
deep I could go.

Then we were shopping, and Mum was still naked. But the 
main difference was that she was being very deferential. 
She was humbly asking my opinion and the things I 
rejected she quickly tossed away. She asked me about a 
black dress. I told her it was fine and she quickly ran 
away, moving on the balls of her feet hurriedly.

She came back in the black dress in just a moment. We 
stood before the looking glass and my hands glided 
around to fondle her breasts. There, in the store, I 
touched up Mum with strangers walking by, even going so 
far as to push her up against the glass.

With her cheek pressed against the cool glass, her butt 
pushed out and I finger-fucked her gently. Then 
eventually, not so gently. Every time my fingers slid in 
deep, Mum grunted and thanked me. Her grunts became 
whimpers and her whimpers became little keens of 
ecstasy. Just before she came, I awaken with a start.

**

I woke up sweating, my breath coming in gasps for a 
moment. My prick was absolutely throbbing. I thrust my 
hands in my shorts and began slowly pumping my hard 
shaft. I closed my eyes again, thinking about Mum, 
thinking about her pressed against the mirror.

In a waking fantasy this time, mentally directing the 
action, I fucked into Mum. Her breath came hard and hot, 
steaming up the looking glass. I was fucking her as hard 
as I could, as fast as my hands could jack my cock. In 
my mind I heard her grunting, grunting every time I 
pressed in. Sweet, delicate Mum, grunting like a whore, 
grunting every time I fucked her.

There on the divan, I came a second time today to 
fantasies of Mum. Thick, sticky strands of cum shot out, 
soaking the tail of my shirt and also soaking my belly. 
I continued, imagining my cock sliding into her, until 
the last of my jism oozed out of me.

The stillness of downstairs was broken only by my harsh 
breathing. I had never tossed off with Mum in the house 
except behind the closed doors of my bedroom or in the 
shower. But even if she had caught me, tonight I 
wouldn't have minded.

I cleaned up downstairs and wiped my face. It's a good 
thing that Mum sleeps so soundly. She used to say she 
could sleep through anything. Me, I'm right the 
opposite. Not only do I wake up easy, but also I don't 
sleep very long every night. About four or five hours is 
all I need.

I went upstairs and put my cum-soaked shirt in the 
laundry and changed into a fresh one. Then, starting to 
get very tired again, I crept into Mum's bedroom.

In the dim room I could barely see her. More by sound 
than sight, I followed the shallow breathing noises to 
Mum's bedside. I could just make out by the blonde hair 
against the pillow that she was lying on her side, 
facing away from me.

So very gently and easily, I slipped into bed behind 
her.  I lay my head on the pillow next to hers and 
breathed in the scent of her freshly bathed aroma. 

I breathed in the scent of her and thought about my 
dream. Even as my cock grew harder, I stifled a yawn and 
slowly fell asleep with thoughts of fucking mother.

Continued in part 4...

More stories by this author available at: 
/files/Authors/Jabbin/

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The
author does not condone the described behavior in
real life in any way, shape or form. Anyone tempted
to act out any of the scenarios in this story should
seriously consider seeking professional help.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 80