Chapter 12
Jean was snapped back to consciousness by the starting of the motor bikes. She sat up on the edge of the bed, feeling completely degraded and soiled. Looking across at her reflection in the dresser mirror she hardly recognized the face staring back at her. And she realized she had to do something to pull herself together, not to mention getting the rumpled bed in order, before Stephan got back. But she felt as if she could never really erase the damage done to her today. She felt as if the hidden scars of her debauched orgy would show always, for anybody sensitive enough to see them.
Jean fled naked to the bath and took a quick shower, then slipped back into the room, got into a light housecoat, and set about changing the spread on the bed. She was just finishing when she heard the front door open and Steve came into the house.
"Mom?" he called. "You here?"
"I'll be right there, Stevie."
Jean made a couple of last adjustments on the bed, looked at herself in the mirror and smoothed her wet hair back off her face, then walked out of her room and down the hall to the den. Steve was in the kitchen inspecting the refrigerator. Jean stopped in the doorway, intentionally letting the flimsy robe hang partially open at the neck, clinging sexily to the lush curves of her still damp body. She didn't know how, after what had happened, she would ever be able to look him in the eye again, and she almost felt a compulsion to make a total confession of what she'd done right there, falling at his feet and begging forgiveness. But as he closed the refrigerator door and turned slowly toward her, she noted that his eyes were avoiding hers.
Jean nervously moistened her lower lip, staring curiously at her son. He looked sheepish, or worried, or ... ashamed. He looked ashamed and guilty. For a brief terrible instant she imagined he already knew about the lewd orgy in which she'd just participated, but she instantly rejected that possibility. He certainly couldn't have found out that fast, and in any event if he had even the slightest idea of how she had spent the afternoon he wouldn't be acting guilty.
"I ... uh ... I just got back," Stephan said, looking at the floor and fidgeting nervously with his hands. "I missed Bill and the guys so I ... uh ... went to a movie."
Jean almost cried out just at the mention of the other boy's name. Instead she managed in a shakey voice. "I hope you enjoyed it."
"Yeah. Yeah, it was a good film. Uh ... what were the guys doing here? I saw the bikes."
"The color faded from the guilty mother's face. "You saw the bikes?"
"Well, I mean ... what were they doing here?"
Jean thought she could have died. If he had gotten back in time to see the bikes then he must have seen ... Oh, it was just too terrible for words. "How long have you been here?" she gasped. "Stephan! How long have you been here?"
Stephan swayed nervously on his feet. Almost, he was wringing his hands. "Adele told me about the bikes."
"What were you doing at Adele's? How long have you been here?"
Stephan kicked at the floor as if at an invisible stick. "Aw Mom, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. She did it. Honest, I just couldn't stop myself once she got it started."
Jean let her breath out long and slow. "Adele? What happened at Adele's? What are you trying to tell me?"
"Shit. You would have found out anyway." He looked at her for a moment and then shamefully looked away. "I was just walking down the street and I was in a big hurry because I saw the bikes here and I figured ... well, I figured the guys were here to see me. And then Adele called me in and "when I got to the door she just..."
His voice trailed off. "What Stephan?" Jean coaxed though she felt sure she already knew.
"It was crazy. She just took off her bikini top and stood there in nothing but her shorts. And she took me by the hand and pulled me in and even when I tried to pull away she wouldn't let me go. She held me and begged me to stay and kept sticking her tit in my mouth and grabbing my hand and pulling it down to her ... her cunt." He shook his head. For a moment Jean thought he was going to cry. "Mom, I mean it. She ... she raped me. And not just once. She raped me twice."
That hideous foul-minded bitch! Jean mumbled to herself, her anger making it impossible for her to even think. She would kill her. Something like that would be enough to scar a boy for life, and she would kill her with her own bare hands if she had to.
"She wouldn't leave me alone and she wouldn't let me go. Not until after we heard the bikes starting up. The she said she was sorry and turned me loose."
Jean thought her legs were going to buckle beneath her. So that was why. Adele must have known what was happening over here. She'd employed the only means she could think of to keep Stephan from walking in on something that would have scarred him even more seriously than being attacked by the-likes of Adele. And Stephan had admitted what had happened because by questioning him he thought she was cross-examining him, because he felt guilty for what he had done. And all she'd been worried about was her own guilt.
She knew that right now, while there was still a chance he would forgive her, she should tell him exactly what it was Adele had wanted to prevent him from seeing. Instead she said with affected sternness, "The boys wondered why they missed you. I had them in for cokes because I thought you might come back here."
Even as she told the lie Jean knew that it would be only a matter of time before he found out the truth.
He found out the next afternoon.
Jean had been waiting on edge all through the day. Steve had sheepishly asked if she minded if he went to the swimming pool after they had finished eating a tense lunch together the next day. He was still feeling very ashamed of what had happened with Adele. Jean was feeling very apprehensive about what was going to happen when Steve found out about her and his three friends. For a brief moment she was even tempted to try to stop him from going to the pool. But she knew that would only be postponing the inevitable. And she knew he did want to go. And, as she said goodbye, she even let herself entertain briefly the dream that the boys wouldn't tell him what had happened.
But she'd known secretly that they would, or that they would certainly tell someone they knew in common and that word would eventually get to him in some form or another. She knew that evening when he came in that word had already gotten to him, no matter from where it came.
Jean had been watching television to pass the time. In that age old female defense against almost any threat she had dressed herself in the loosest and one of the sexiest sleeveless dresses she had. She wore no brassiere and only her flimsiest silk panties. She'd dabbed an ample helping of perfume on her neck. In the late afternoon she'd allowed herself one whiskey as a bracer.
The television was so loud and Jean was so engrossed in her own thoughts and fears that she didn't even hear the door open. She didn't know
Stephan was back until she felt his presence and looked up to see him standing at the door of the den, looking at her with a strained, ashen face. His eyes coldly surveyed her body, her voluptuous breasts almost completely visible through the big arm-holes in the loose sleeveless dress. Then he sniffed the smell of her perfume scenting the air. "Expecting company?"
"I was expecting you, Stevie," she said in her sexiest voice, still hoping against hope that he still didn't actually know.
He looked at her deadpan. He walked over and turned off the TV Now in his angry decisiveness he looked more like his father than ever before, and the love that welled in Jean's breast for him was enough to break her heart. He turned back, staring at her coldly, and said:
"Mother, you're a whore!"
Jean nodded, tears spilling from her eyes. "I know, I know. And I know you'll never forgive me Stephan, but if somehow, just somehow you could..."
He said nothing. He just stood there glaring at her. Shaken with sobs, she rose and walked toward him. She reached out and touched him on the side of the face. He didn't move but she could feel the raw current of anger exuding from his body.
"Stephan, please. Don't look at me like that. Hit me or something but don't look at me like that. They raped me too and there wasn't anything I could do to stop it. Honest. It was the same as you and Adele."
"Yeah. I heard," he said dryly. "And I heard you loved every minute."
Then suddenly his hand shot out and grabbed her dark hair. He tanked on it viciously, causing her head to droop slightly from the force.
"Stephan! You're hurting me."
He turned her hair loose. Then he reached to seize her loose dress at the neck. In a single jerk he ripped it open down the front so it hung away from her torso to completely expose the voluptuous mounds of her full ripe breasts peaked by the mauve, already hard-tingling nipples. And as his eyes burned over her exposed flesh, she thought she understood. He had said she'd enjoyed being raped. But that statement had been more than sarcasm. It had, as they both knew, been the truth. And it had been a warning of what he wanted to do as a way of getting his own revenge for the way she had shamed and humiliated him by her degrading comportment with his friends.
Jean stood trembling with a lewd building excitement as her son stared viciously at her nearly naked form. Oh God, she thought. If it only could be as simple as that! If Stephan could only appease his anger by the simple act of lovemaking, even violent lovemaking, it would be so wonderful. Because she had enjoyed what happened to her yesterday, and the masochistic self-punishing guilt that had been unleashed in her by what she had done was today in need of even greater appeasement.
Stephan looked at his mother for a moment longer, then took her arm and turned her and marched her toward the door. He guided her down the hall to the bedroom and she followed without resistance, her desperately secret hope causing her sensitive pussy-lips to prematurely dilate and moisten, just as they had yesterday in preparation for her lewd gang-rape at the hands of his three young friends. Inside the room he released her. He reached down and pushed the dress from her hips, then seized her panties and gave another angry jerk so the little garment ripped like wet toilet paper from her hips. Tossing them angrily away, he indicated the bed with his eyes.
"Oh Stephan!"
"Get on the bed, Mother, or by God I'll hit you in the face!"
Looking into her son's maddened eyes, Jean realized that it would be futile to try to resist him even if she had wanted to. Though she was an inch taller and they were about even in weight, she knew from the way he'd held her arm that he had the edge in strength, and she felt a secret tingle of pride at her son's demonstration of his masculinity as she complied with his command.
Her heart pounding with excitement in her breasts, she dropped down on the bed. She watched him unbuckle his belt and pull his trousers and jockey shorts down to reveal his already rigidly throbbing penis sticking up, red-tipped and blood-filled, from his thinly-haired loins. A moan of shame and disappointment swelled in her throat as he left his pants clutching them just above his knees and hobbled toward the bed. My God, he wasn't even going to show her the consideration of completely removing his clothes. He was going to fuck her like a busy businessman fucking a whore on his coffee break and yet she knew it was exactly what she deserved.
Then she closed her eyes as he dropped down beside her, pushing her forcibly to a reclining position on her back, his hands searching brutally over the sensitively pliant flesh of her nipples and breasts. Then he stroked lower down over her hips, and in spite of its crudeness the gesture provoked a familiar tingling response deep up in her loins. A little thrill of excitement rippled over her naked skin as she realized that in spite of all his bitterness over what she had done, her son was going to make love to her again.
Then suddenly his fingers tightened cruelly on her flanks and thighs and in a sudden forcible motion he pushed her over to lie face down on the bed. Before she could grasp what was happening he forced her knees up and under her body so that her buttocks were pushed into a ripely proffered position up into the air. It was the same position Bill and Danny had forced her to assume the day before, and she concluded with a sinking heart that her son must have heard every detail of what had happened then. He must be forcing her to accept this humiliating posture only in an attempt to further degrade and punish her.
Then as he positioned himself on his knees behind her the same way Danny had the day before, Jean felt his hands plunge without warning right down to her strained ass-cheeks. And as she pulled them wide apart to completely expose the forbidden inner furrow and her tiny puckered anus, she got the first faint inkling of what her son intended to do. Her eyes bulged fearfully at the thought, and she shivered as she felt one of his fingers venture farther down into her defenseless crack to exert a sudden hard pressure right against the cringing little hole.
Jean couldn't even verbalize her secret fear, and she tried desperately to slither away on the bed to escape from the tormenting sensation of Stephan's finger pushing right against her rubbery anal opening. But he used his other arm to hold her in place and only increased the prodding force.
"No, Stephan," she gasped. "Noooooo! Don't do that! It hurts!"
"Shut up Mother," the angry son hissed behind her. "I've seen Danny Jarvis in the locker room at the pool. I want something that's still a little tight."
Jean could gladly have died at that moment. Nothing Stephan could have done to her physically would have revealed his hatred to the extent those words had. And for the moment the impact of the cutting remark caused her to put her present physical danger in the back of her mind. She let her body go limp and tears flooded down from her eyes onto the pillow as she ceased to resist and allowed her mind to go blank.
Then the shamed mother blinked as her son shoved his extended middle finger forward again and it popped right up inside the friction-seared little opening. Her eyes stared open wide at the wall and a low grunt welled from her throat as he twirled his invading digit deep up between her hips to stretch and punish the narrowly clasping inner passage of her rectum.
Stephan ignored his mother's cries of fear and pain as he forced his exploring finger deeper and deeper up into her defenseless rectum. The tightly puckered entrance was warm and throbbing to his touch, and he was certain that Danny and the others had failed at least to get her there. It felt so warm and tight that he would have ventured that not even his father had done it to her the way he was going to, and he felt a surge of boyish masculine pride at the thought of doing something sexual to his mother she had never known before. He was going to fuck her in the ass, and if that wasn't enough to teach her not to play around with the other guys he didn't think there was anything that would.
Kneeling in an almost unbearably strained position before her young son on the bed, Jean was mortified with agony and shame. The continued brutal workings of his outstretched finger penetrating up into her ravished anus were causing a physical response of which she could never have dreamed. Her rectum burned like fire and she felt that any minute her whole body might go into epileptic convulsions from the sheer unnaturalness of it all. It was sick and perverse, merciless and cruel. And there was nothing she could do to stop it. Absolutely nothing!
Stephan was strong enough to force her to submit. And deep down inside she knew it was exactly what she deserved. If only yesterday hadn't happened, things would all have been so different, and hot tears of misery coursed down her cheeks as she remembered the love that they'd known together. If only she hadn't let the other boys take her the way they had. If only she had stood up to them and saved her self-respect.
But now it was too late and Jean was so lost in her own remorse she hardly even took advantage of the momentary relief as Stephan suddenly drew his finger out of her rectum. It escaped with a jolting little pop, then almost immediately was replaced by the even more frightening presence of the pulsing head of his turgid young coc. The hotly surging hardness throbbed menacingly against her sensitive little anus, and with an angry grunt he pressed it even harder between her hips. And as he did so the sheer physical pain brought a cry of anguished protest from his mother's lips.
It was impossible, she realized, experiencing an instant of tortured clarity before her mind almost blanked again from the shock of what was happening to her. Against her tiny anal opening, Stephan's inflated cock felt even larger than Danny Jarvis's stallion-sized enormity had between the lips of her cunt. Desperately she tried to slither forward on the bed in retreat, but Stephan seized her long black hair, pulling back on her head as though he were stopping a horse with a bit, and Jean whimpered abjectly as she heard his angry growl:
"Goddamn it, Mother! If you don't hold still I'm going to tie you to the bed!"
Then he thrust forward again, mercilessly bludgeoning the knob-like head of his throbbing cock against her resisting little aperture. He strained with all his might against the impossible fit, ignoring the distraught woman's cries of alarm in his determination to inflict the only punishment he could think of that would avenge the way she had humiliated him.
"Aaaaggghhh!" Jean cried out in terror. "Oh Christ, Stephan! Stop it, your hurting me!"
Jean's protests reverberated uselessly through the room as the tip of Stephan's fluid-coated cock-head popped up into her vainly resisting anus. He grunted from the strain and continued his pressure, shoving his blood-swollen penis-shaft relentlessly inch by inch up into her little hole, burrowing it gradually deeper and deeper up into his mother's heatedly cringing anus.
Jean moaned and whimpered as her smoothly rounded buttocks sank back against Stephan's loins, impaled by his brutally punishing teenaged rod of flesh. Pain jolted through her body like lapping tongues of fire, and all her thrashing struggles were for naught. Stephen's fingers dug painfully into the nakedness of her flesh, and he held her prostrate on the bed as inch by agonizing inch he fucked his hotly throbbing cock all the way up into her virginal rectum.
"OOOOOH!" Jean cried out, her face twisting in torment as though she thought her ordeal would never end. Then Stephan's loins smacked heavily against her buttocks, and she consoled herself with the fact that at least the worst was over. The cruel initial penetration was completed. Her son's cock was buried to the very hilt in her ass.
Stephan gloated visibly over his triumph. He had his mother pinioned now like he'd never had her before, and slowly he began to lurch back and forth, relishing the sight of her pinkly clasping flesh pulling out with the spongy head of his cock when he withdrew, then folding warmly inward as he screwed back against her again. He listened to her continued sobs of protest and pain, then heard them gradually fade. And as he further increased the force and rhythm of his ruthless attack, he was astonished to see his mother begin to respond.
Jean didn't know what to think. The agony she'd initially experienced had almost ceased and though a remnant of hurt still lingered, in a manner she didn't even understand it was becoming almost nice. She was deriving a weird masochistic enjoyment from her son's brutal violation of her backside, and tentatively she tried bucking back and wagging her buttocks to meet his pile-driving thrusts.
And as she increased the vigor of her cautious response, Jean found that not only did her movements fail to intensify the pain, but even seemed to be rekindling the passion that had burned earlier in her loins. She was astonishingly beginning to enjoy her whole depraved ordeal, and almost before she knew what she was doing, she was twisting and waving her slavishly up-thrust buttocks almost violently against her aggressor, as if in invitation for Stephan to fuck her even more viciously. Her nakedly exposed ass-cheeks were swinging in tiny rotating circles, clenching tightly around his pistoning cock as though to draw it even deeper up between her hips.
"Oh yes Stephan," she whimpered in final abandon. "Fuck me like that, honey. I love you; fuck me like that!"
Sweat dripped from Stephan's face as he stared in disbelief down at the sex-starved creature his mother had been transformed into before his eyes. She was getting her kicks from even this, and the glove-like caresses of her rectum around his cock were enough to tell him she was also doing her best to make it good for him. He began to feel he may have been too hard on her when he'd begun his cruel attack and he suddenly regretted he'd implied that he thought Danny must have stretched her cunt out of shape. After all, he had to remember that she had carried him nine months in her belly. He had weighed seven pounds-eight ounces at birth and at that size he must certainly have done as much damage as Danny Jarvis's prick.
As the regret for his mistreatment of his mother poured over him, Stephan rammed against her proffered buttocks with another mighty thrust, leaning over at the same time to place his lips on the back of her neck. As she shuddered from the racking lunge, he kissed and slavered affectionately over her sensitive skin as though to compensate for any continued misery his act of sodomy might cause.
And that show of simple human warmth was all it took to push his mother over the brink.
"Oh Stevie! Stevie, my darling!" she cried out in wanton abandon. "Oh Stevie I love you. I'm going to cum! I'm going to cummmmmm!"
Tears of joy filled Jean's eyes as she waved her buttocks back in abandon against her son's shocking forward thrusts. Her mind was blurred by the sheer intensity of the sensation in her rectum and loins and by the intensity of the emotion and of the unalterable fact of her motherly love swelling so profoundly in her breasts. He was her son and she would love him through good and bad, through right and wrong. Her pain and humiliation were forgotten. She was giving her body up completely for her son's lascivious sexual pleasure, but she would as soon have given up her life to save the smallest lock of his hair if that were the sacrifice that needed to be made. She wanted him to shoot his hot load of sperm endlessly up into her virginal rectum, and she strained back against his lewdly pistoning penis with eager masochistic joy as his teenaged penis seemed to throb even bigger deep up inside her.
Then the fulfilled young mother cried with ecstatic delight as the first hotly squirting jets of Stephan's thick-shooting cum poured forth into her love-ravished rectum. The viscous fluid bubbled up into her like lava from an erupting volcano, washing over her friction-seared flesh, dripping down across the membrane that separated her anus from her cunt, the liquid caress setting off in her own body a climax she'd never dreamed she could have.