Chapter 1
"I don't appreciate your bringing your girlfriend home and having sex on the sofa," Pat Alexander told her young son, Joe.
"Look mom," he told her, "if you don't want me to do it here you had better buy me a car. I don't have any other place to do it."
That did it. She glared at him and slapped his face.
"You shouldn't have done that, mom," he warned her. "I'm not a kid anymore."
"You're a punk kid," she said, "talking to your mother like that. Don't you have any respect for yourself?"
"What has respect got to do with it?" he demanded. "I need a piece of ass now and then."
"That's what your father said when he left me," she said.
"Now, don't go blaming him for anything anymore," Joe told her tensely. "All I've ever heard of it is your side of it and how do I know you're telling me the truth?"
"I've told you all I know about your father," she said. "He's just disappeared. I've done everything I could to find him, and I haven't been able to. Now, baby, don't listen to this new morality talk. I've done everything I could to give you a decent life. Please, baby."
Her hand was painfully tightening on his wrist and he twisted to get away.
"Leave me alone, mom," he told her.
She looked at him as he walked out of the house and she felt awful. Then he walked back in.
"Please mom, will you leave me alone. I apologize if I got you uptight."
"Forget it, dear," she said nervously. "I just want you to be a good boy and grow up a little different than your father."
When she mentioned his father in a derogatory manner again, he turned away.
"I read you," he said.
It was obvious to her that he was going to stand up for his father no matter what. Even though she despised his father, she felt something for him and wanted the boy to grow up to be a different kind of person.
She saw him walk out again and she worried about him. She knew that he was eager for action, and night after night she had listened to him making love with his girlfriend. It bothered the hell out of her and she didn't know what to do. She went about her activities that day feeling numb and miserable, for she was worried. Worried that her son would bring home his girlfriend again that night. He didn't come home for dinner and when she finally went to bed she was nervous. If there was one girl she couldn't stand him going with, it was Joyce. She knew that Joyce was a slut from the moment that she met her. The thought of her young son having anything to do with her, really got to her. She couldn't do anything about it, however, as she knew that he would do as he wanted to do.
She finally drifted off to sleep. Then, she heard noises. She clutched the sheet nervously as she listened to him. She could hear him telling the girl to unzip him. Faintly, she could hear it and so she decided to get out of bed and go to the door and listen. Now, she could hear him quite easily.
"Come on, Joyce baby," he told her, "grab that cock and play with it."
Apparently Joyce was reluctant for she wasn't answering.
"Go ahead," he insisted.
Then she heard Joyce speaking.
"Will you eat my pussy?" she demanded.
"Look, baby," he told her, "you know I will, but first you're going to blow me."
"Oh, alright," she said, "but why do I always have to do it first?"
"Because men get hotter," he said.
Now this was more than she could take. Tiptoeing down the hall, she caught sight of them in action.
"Eat it," he told her anxiously. "Eat my cock. Oh, baby come on, eat that prick!"
As she watched him with the girl down there licking around his penis, she got so angry she wanted to scream. Yet, there was nothing she felt she could legitimately do. So she didn't make a fuss. However, she was furious. Going back to her bedroom she could hear them continuing until he shot his gun off. Then he did just as he said he would do. He ate her. Finally when it was all over he took her home. When he returned, she decided she would have to speak to him. Yet, it was difficult for her to do what she knew she had to do. Going into the bedroom, she told him abruptly, "You've been having enough sex. Can you understand that?"
He looked at her now and shuddered.
"What do you mean, mom?" he asked.
"I don't want anymore of this horsing around," she said. "I know what you've been doing. You really were awful. You made that poor girl go down on you."
"But I went down on her," he said, "so it's equal."
"It's equally disgusting, Joe," Pat told her son.
"I can't help it mom," he explained. "Sometimes I just have to get my rocks off."
"You're as bad as your father was," she said.
"Let's not blame dad," he said. "Maybe you're a frigid woman."
"I am not," she said indignantly. "I have passions just like you've got and believe me, baby, if there's one thing I love it's sex. But I believe it has to be done correctly."
"What do you mean correctly, mom?" he smiled.
"With a little pride and respect," she said.
"Oh, come off it," he laughed, "you know damn well when a guy balls a woman he isn't concerned with respect. He's concerned with fuck."
"How you talk," she said angrily.
"What's wrong with the way I talk?" he shot back.
Suddenly he flung back the sheets exposing himself.
"Look at this, mom," he said, "that's nine inches. And I'm going on 18. Now, quit bugging me."
Her eyes focused on his huge shaft and suddenly she wished that she could accommodate him.
"I suppose you tried to deny dad too," he told her.
"Never did I deny your father anything," she said.
"Well, I wouldn't be surprised if you did," he said, "because I don't think anything turns you on."
"That's not true," she said quickly, "it's just that I know what is right and what is wrong."
Grabbing his cock he looked up at her.
"It's right that I get satisfaction, mom," he said. "You read me?"
She nodded sadly and turned away. Then he pulled her back.
"Look at it," he said. "That's a cock. These are balls. When a guy gets to be my age he has to get some action."
She knew what he meant all too well. Then he began taunting her by grabbing his penis and pulling on it.
"Oh, don't do that," she insisted, "that's terrible for you."
"Is it, mom?" he smiled.
"Yes it is," she objected, "you mustn't ever do that."
"Why don't you do it for me?" he smiled.
Joe was delighting in taunting his mother and she was finding it difficult to look at him. She was discovering that it was making her hot.
"Alright," she said, "I suppose it would be better than having you do it."
"I would enjoy it more," he chuckled.
Then bending over and sitting on the edge of the bed, she took his cock in her hand. She began massaging his balls while she tugged on his penis.
"Oh, that feels real good, mom," he told her. "Now, why don't you just get down there and blow me."
"Do you realize what you're asking your mom to do?" she demanded.
"Sure I do," he said. "You want to try me?"
She hadn't had anyone ask her this for so long that she suddenly felt attracted to him. Yet, she knew it was a terrible thing to be attracted to one's own son.
"Come on mom," he said with a sly smile.
"I can't do that," she insisted.
"Oh yes you can, baby," he said, "get down there and blow it."
Bending over she mistook her son for her husband. It was almost as if he were a reincarnation of her husband who had disappeared. This is what her husband enjoyed so much. She let her tongue gently lick the head of it.
"Oh, does that ever feel good," he told her.
Now they were becoming more and more excited. Amazingly she found she could let her tongue lap the head of his shaft.
"Oh, baby," he told her, "you're good at it. Play with my balls."
Her fingers massaged his testicles and then her mouth slid over the shaft.
"Oh, yes," he told her, "I love it."
Her mound was moistening. She wanted more than anything to feel herself slipping over him.
"Oh, mom," he panted, as she went to town with her tongue.
Then she decided that she would get some satisfaction that she had sought for a long, long time. She slid out of her nightgown and stood there naked. The moonlight played across her bare body and he became hotter and hotter.
"You've got a great shape, mom," he said.
She was frozen for a moment, unable to move any farther.
"Oh, baby," he told her, "I really want you."
At this point he was eager for action and so was she. Now, she straddled him. Grabbing his penis in her hand, she shot downward as her pussy tightened over his shaft. He thrust forward.
"Oh, fuck it, mom," he gasped excitedly. "Fuck it. Oh, yes, fuck, baby, fuck!"
Now he was really enjoying it.
"Oh, wow!" he panted.
Grabbing her asscheeks in his hands, he guided her down over his penis.
"That's it," he told her, "massage me."
She knew just how to run herself up and down his shaft. He was becoming more excited every moment.
"Oh, mom," he panted, "I love it."
The passion was building in him every second.
"Fuck it," he told her, "fuck my cock!"
She twisted her hips around and the sexual electricity that surged through her now was almost more than she could stand.
"Oh, baby," he panted.
Her breasts were brushing across his chest at this point and he was becoming more and more intensely excited.
"Oh, you've got a beautiful shape," he told her.
She knew it and it excited her to have him talk this way.
"Fuck it," he panted. "Fuck, baby, fuck!"
The super sensations flooding through his body at this point really got to him.
"Oh, yes," he gasped, "that's the way I like it. Oh, do it, baby, do it!"
It wasn't going to be much longer now and she would juice.
"Oh, fuck me," he begged. "Fuck, baby, fuck."
Together they were making it. Grabbing her asscheeks hard, he shot.
"Ohh," he grunted as he rolled back and forth, "I'm cuming. I'm cuming!"
She ran her fingers up the back of his neck and patted him.
"Oh, darling," she gasped, "this is beautiful."
He was smiling now and he went on screwing her.
"Keep fucking, honey," he told her.
He continued stabbing his cock into her and with every jab she became more intensely excited for she could tell he was going to cum again.
"Oh, yes," he gasped excitedly, "I'm going to make it. Oh, baby!"
His penis exploded once more. As the juices shot into her body, she found herself cuming in multiples.
"Oh, wow!" he panted.
Grabbing her asscheeks again, he held her there.
"How about that mom?" he smiled proudly.
"Oh, son," she told him, "you just gave me the best fuck I ever had."
She held on tightly and kissed him. Then slowly she pulled herself off his cock. She lay down beside him and he wrapped his arms around her lovingly. He played with her bosoms and looked at her hotly.
"You're not a bad fuck, mom," he told her.
"Oh, son," she apologized again, "forgive me. I'm sorry."
"Now, don't be sorry," he said, "you did what you wanted to do and you enjoyed it too."
"I did enjoy it," she said, "but I feel guilty. I have no right to your body."
"What difference does it make?" he said. "Hell, I would have fucked somebody I didn't give a damn about. At least I care about you, mom."
As his eyes focused on her, he realized that she was a very beautiful woman.
"You know, mom," he said, "dad must have been a crazy guy to leave you. You really are something else."
"Thank you, darling," she said, "it's been such a long time since I heard anyone say anything like that."
"Well, it's the truth," he said quickly.
"Thank you again."
He was happy and grateful that he could have sex with someone he loved as much as his own mother. Yet, it still bothered her immensely. She was left without words. She thought about it.
"You know, mom," he said, "I could show you a lot of things."
"Like what?" she asked curiously.
"I'll tell you," he said, "did dad ever eat your pussy?"
"Well, no," she told him truthfully. "Well, the next time we make it," he told her, "I'm going to eat you."
"Is that a promise or a threat," she laughed. "Both," he smiled.
She decided that she shouldn't stay there any longer and she got up from the bed.
"Goodnight, son," she smiled.
He looked at her and called out, "Goodnight, lover."
Tears came to her eyes as he said this. It had been such a long time since anyone had said anything like that to her. She was crazy about him and didn't want to hurt him. Yet, she was afraid that if she continued on the path she was on, she might well indeed hurt him. This bothered her a lot and she didn't dare to think too much about it. She went back to her bedroom and lay on her bed. As she glanced out of the window she could see the moonlight illuminating the sky. But no moonlight could illuminate the darkness of her soul for she was tormented beyond belief and there was nothing she could think of that would change her troubled, chaotic thoughts. Vainly, she tried to go to sleep. She tossed and turned and felt miserable. The next morning she decided that she would fix a big breakfast for her son and apologize and assure him that she would never make any sexual demands on him again. She got up and went into the kitchen. She fixed an omelet which she knew he liked. She made some strawberry waffles which Joe was crazy about. Then she went to his bedroom and called him.
"Joe," she called out.
Sleepily he opened one eye.
"Yes, mom," he said softly.
"Joe, baby," she told him, "it's ready."
"Alright," he said.
Finally he sat up rigid.
"Oh, wow, last night I was really on."
"I'm sorry," she said, "we can talk about that after breakfast."
"Don't be sorry," he said. "We needed each other. Let's be honest."
She went into the kitchen and her heart was pounding wildly. Joe was rubbing his eyes still half asleep. When he smelled the good food cooking, he told her, "Hey, lover, all this for me?"
She wanted to chide him for calling her "lover" but she didn't dare because she loved to hear him say it. Trying to match the excitement that he felt, she smiled back at him.
"Yes," she said, "all this is for you, darling."
She placed the food before him and it didn't take long for him to devour the food. Then, she looked at him tensely.
"I've got to tell you something," she said.
"What mom?" he frowned, his eyes looking puzzled.
"I'll tell you," she said quietly. "I haven't had any love in a long time. I needed you. I needed you much more than I realized. I guess I had turned my life away from everybody when dad left me. I hated everybody. When I listened to you make love it brought it back to me how mar-velously your father used to make love to me. I couldn't stand you doing it. Of course I always said that I didn't want you to get in with a bad girl. Joyce isn't that bad a girl. But your mother is the one that is no damn good."
"Joyce is a little tramp," he chuckled, "let's be honest."
"Why do you say that?" she said quickly.
"Because it's the truth," he told her.
"Forgive me for asking for sex with you. What you've done with her is another matter. What you've done with me, darling, was wrong. If people knew what we had done, they would hate us both. Do you understand?"
He shook his head and smiled.
"Oh, mom," he told her, "do you pay any attention to what people think? Is it important?"
"Yes, it is," she insisted, "very important. If you don't conform, you're an outsider. I've been an outsider all of my life, son. Your father forced it on me. Now, don't you go through what I went through."
"Don't worry about it mom," he said. "I've got a philosophy of my own."
"What is your philosophy, Joe?"
"Just this, mom," he said huskily, "if I enjoy it, it's alright. I enjoyed fucking you so that makes it alright."
She was stunned at the boldness and coldness of her son's viewpoint. "I can't have anything more to do with you."
"Sure you will, mom," he chuckled.
"I said I wouldn't and I mean it," she told him frankly.
"You want me to eat you don't you?" he said, opening his mouth and wiggling his tongue.
Suddenly it flashed in her mind that her husband used to like to use his tongue on her down there. He, her own son, was doing the same thing.
"Answer me, mom," he smiled, as he began licking his lips sensuously.
"I can't talk to you," she said, and she got up from the table and ran into the bedroom.
As she lay there, her body was racked with sobs. She heard him as he went running out of the house. She went to the window and watched as he went down the street carrying his tennis racquet. It bothered her no end to see him going but there was nothing at all she could do. She was tortured and tormented. She felt sick.
Meantime she knew that she had to talk to someone. She thought it would be wise if she called up a girlfriend and confided her problems to her.
Going over to the phone, she called her girlfriend, Gloria.
"Hi Gloria," she began.
"Why, Pat," Gloria began, "haven't heard from you for ages. Where have you been hiding."
"Oh, I've been awfully busy," she explained.
"Well, you must have been, darling," she said, "because I haven't heard a word from you."
"I've got to see you," she told her girlfriend.
"Well, I'm kind of busy," she said, "but if it's important I guess I could cancel one of my appointments."
"It's very important," she said gravely.
"Alright," she agreed, "we'll get together then. What time do you want to see me?"
"Well, this afternoon would be great," she said.
"Alright, baby," she said, "we'll get together this afternoon."
She had no idea what her girlfriend was going to say but she was eager to find out. Finally she managed to take her shower and get dressed. When she got over to her girlfriend's place she was wondering whether or not she dared talk about her problem. However, she thought she might as well as she knew it would drive her out of her mind if she couldn't speak to someone.
Going over to her girlfriend's house was a strain and a hard thing for her to do. But, she was sure that one way or another she would get the matter resolved.
Gloria greeted her affectionately.
"How are you, darling," she said, "haven't got too long to talk but we can have a good coffee chat."
Gloria went inside and then fixed some coffee. "You should make it Irish coffee for me," she said.
"Things are really tough when you're drinking again," she said.
"I can't help it," she said. "I need it."
"Tell me, honey," she said, "what's your problem?"
"I'll tell you in a minute," she said, sitting down.
Gloria prepared and served the coffee adding a little booze to Pat's. Then Pat felt like talking.
"Listen," she began, "what do you do when you've done something so terrible that you can't even go to a doctor?"
"What have you done, killed somebody?" she asked.
"I've had a wild sex affair," she said nervously.
"Now that's nothing to be uptight about," Gloria laughed. "Congratulate yourself. You haven't had a good time in a long time, baby. I told you what you needed was an affair."
"But no one would understand this one," she said.
"No one has to, honey," she said. "It always clears up tensions to have sex. It's really therapy."
"Not the kind of sex I'm talking about," she said.
Gloria gulped and looked down at her bosoms nervously.
"I certainly hope it's not with another woman," she said. "A lot of girls are trying that these days but that would be awful."
"No," she admitted, "it wasn't with another woman."
"Well, go ahead and tell me," she insisted, "I want to know."
"Alright," she finally said, "I will tell you."
She hesitated and then she blurted it out.
"I'm having sex with my son," she admitted.
"You're what?" Gloria said, angrily getting to her feet.
Gloria shook her head in disbelief.
"You mean you're having sex with your own son?" she asked again.
"Yes," she said, "I couldn't help it."
"Well, that's about the most disgusting thing I ever heard."
Then when she saw that her girlfriend wasn't saying another word because she felt so guilty and sick about it all, she realized that she had responded much too harshly.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, "but this is something that I'm just not familiar with. I guess I'm more conventional. Sure, I carry on plenty."
"I thought you did," Pat said, "that was why I thought I could tell you everything."
"I've done an awful lot of things, honey," she said, "but that's the type of thing that I know nothing of. I've never met anyone in my life who ever had sex with their own child."
"I suppose there is a special place in hell reserved for people like me," she said.
"Well, it isn't that," Gloria said, hedging, "it's just that it sounds so repellant. So disgusting."
"But it wasn't with him," she said, "he's such a handsome young man and sexually he is the reincarnation of his father."
"Haven't you forgotten that bastard yet?" Gloria snapped. "He was terrible to you, honey. How can you ever mention his name again?"
"When you love someone," she explained, "I guess you can forgive them for almost anything."
"I could never forgive him for not coming to visit his own son," she said, "and look what he's done to your life. That's why you've gone sick on sex."
Those words cut through her like a knife. "I can't help it, honey," she said, "but that's the way it is."
The more she thought about it the more upset she became. Then she looked at her girlfriend and said, "Now, baby doll, I want you to do this.
I want you to go to one of those headshrinkers. Tell him the terrible things you've been doing and maybe he can help you."
"It would help me to the funny farm," she commented, "that's what it would do. He would say I was definitely sick to have sex with my own son."
"Well, let's be honest, aren't you?" Gloria said softly.
"Yes, I suppose I am," she said.
Suddenly she thought of the philosophy of her son. The idea that if it felt good and he enjoyed it, it was automatically right. She thought she would mention this to her girlfriend to see her response.
"If you enjoy a thing," she said, "that makes it right."
"You are off your rocker," Gloria warned her. "Killers say they enjoy killing. That doesn't make it right."
"For them it does," she said, "that's why they kill, isn't it?"
Gloria shook her head in disbelief. She continued carrying the argument farther.
"There's nothing wrong with me doing it with him if we both enjoy it."
"Forget it," she snapped, "just because you enjoy something doesn't mean that you have a right to wreck your son's life. Frankly I don't think you give a damn about him. If you did you would have never had sex with him in the first place."
"I suppose you'd like to report me to the authorities?" she said.
Gloria told her frankly, "I wouldn't want to soil my hands with your situation.
"You know you're awfully self-righteous for a hooker," she said.
"Look," she said, "there's the door and you're free to leave any time you want to. Okay?"
"Leave me alone," she said.
"I mean it," she said angrily. "I'm sick and tired of this crap."
"Don't call it crap," Pat warned her. "I have just as big a right to do as I want to do as you have. My body belongs to me and my son's body belongs to him. If he wants to ball me, that's his business. That's my business."
"But you came to talk to me about it, didn't you, baby?" she reminded her.
"Sure I did," she told her, "because I thought you'd be understanding."
"You are not going to find anybody who's going to be that understanding."
"Listen, baby," she said, "I want to tell you something. When you go to tell another person what you're doing, you'd better make sure that you carry vomit bags along with you because that's what anybody would want to do."
"Goodbye," Pat told Gloria, "and good luck."
"Take care," Gloria said, "and I hope that you listened to what I told you because you are going to bitterly regret the mistakes you're making."
She realized that she was making a terrible mistake, but there was nothing that could stop her from pursuing the path she had started on.
"It must be nice to be such a perfect person," she told Gloria snidely, "that you never have to feel guilty. Actually, baby, I congratulate you. It really must be nice out there on Mt. Olympus."
"Goodbye," Gloria said, as she closed the door on her.
She was grateful to be away, however, she was furious. It really got to her that this woman would be so cold, so inconsiderate and so impossible. She was alone with her own troubled thoughts. Having listened to her son talking about eating her, she was thinking of this now. The more she thought about it the more excited and stimulated she became.
Going home the first thing she did was to go to her bedroom and look for lace panties and lace bra. She hadn't worn them in years. She thought it would be a good idea to have them on as it would make her feel sexier. Then she thought she might enjoy herself if her son asked for sex. This was what she wanted more than anything. This was what she was determined to get. It was indeed a difficult thing that this situation was as it was. Nevertheless, she had made up her mind that she was going to do what she was going to do. She didn't care whether or not her erotic desires clashed with what was good for her son or not.
She decided that she would take a little rest as she was tired. She lay down and fell asleep. In her sleep she was troubled. She was dreaming all the time and her mind seemed as if it wouldn't stop running. It was as if her mind was a locomotive and it was going swiftly down the tracks. When she finally woke up, it was getting near dark and her son wasn't back yet. This bugged her. She had no idea what she would say to him but she was certain in her mind that she was going to have some sexual relationships with him or bust. When he didn't come home and didn't come home, she worried. She got up and fixed herself something to eat. Then, she lay down and turned on the television. The television show was a comedy but she didn't feel like laughing. She wanted to cry. Still, Joe didn't come back. It bothered her that she had ever mentioned it to Gloria. Finally, she decided that she would call her girlfriend up.
Gloria answered the phone.
"Gloria," she told her, "I'm sorry I ever mentioned it to you. Promise me you'll never tell anybody."
"I wouldn't think of telling anybody," Gloria said. "I think it's the most disgusting thing I've ever heard and I would never repeat it."
"Thanks for being so understanding," she said, her voice quivering with emotion.
Gloria didn't answer that remark, she hung up instead.
Feeling more alone than ever before she went out to the kitchen and looked at the various cleaning fluids under the sink. She wished she could mix some in a drink. That might be a way to make an exit from her troubles. She was just about to reach under there when she heard the door open and her son come in.