Mom does it all

CHAPTER ONE

Donna Alyn leaned at the washer, loading it with soiled clothing. Behind her, Timmy watched the way her ass moved.

"You forgot my cut-offs again!" he said.

Donna jumped, startled. "I'm sorry, honey," she said.

"Don't forget again, Mom," Timmy replied, tossing his cut-offs to her. "You know I wear them all the time."

Donna clung to his shorts, watching him walk away. She hated herself for being so easily startled every time he spoke to her. She hated herself because she was so passive, so easily dominated. She hated herself because of her fear of men. She couldn't stand up to men. All her, life it had been this way, letting men tell her what to do, when to do it, being a slave to their demands. It had started very early with her father, he was a domineering man who had her mother trembling with fear all the time. Then it was her brother, her husband, and, now, her son.

When her husband had been killed, Donna felt she had finally broken the cycle, but she had also been lost, not knowing what to do, unable to make a decision for herself.

But then her son had become the controlling force in her life. It was only natural, she thought, that Timmy should step into his father's place. He had been conditioned to. It seemed the most natural thing in the world for him to carry on in his father's place, and for her to turn to her son for guidance and instruction.

Why not? That was the way it had been all her life. Men telling and her obeying.

It was a man's place to tell.

Her duty was to obey.

But she was fearful something was going to happen, something between her and Timmy. He had been looking at her with a strange gleam in his young eyes, a gleam she understood very well. It was the same gleam her husband would get when he was horny, she didn't think her son would fuck her, but she couldn't be certain. What would she do if he demanded what men called their natural rights with a woman? She found out that evening.

She was sifting on the couch, wearing her robe, polishing her toenails. Timmy was on the floor, watching her. She placed her foot on the low glass-topped coffee table, tucking her robe between her thighs carefully, but still exposing her thigh. At first she didn't realize her son was watching her that closely. She didn't have to see him looking to feel his eyes on her thigh. She began trembling, afraid to look at him, afraid to see where he was looking.

Somehow, she managed to finish that foot, hiding her nervousness with an effort. But when she started on the other foot she was a little careless. Unknown to her, the robe did not quite conceal her crotch when she switched feet and her panties were exposed. Timmy's eyes had become hot as he stared at the panties. A few dark curls of hair curled teasingly from the tight crotch.

She caught the movement of Timmy's hand as he darted it into his lap. She couldn't see what he was doing because of the coffee table, but it was obvious. He was touching himself as he looked at her.

Donna started to adjust her robe.

"No, Mom," Timmy said, his voice hoarse.

Donna's breath caught in her throat, her hand an inch or so from her robe, unmoving, frozen, with her fingers pointing to her cunt, as if she was getting ready to rub it. She lifted her eyes and saw the gleam in Timmy's. A shudder rippled through her. It was the same gleam her husband used to get, only Timmy's eyes appeared much brighter, more demanding. His arm was moving, and she knew he was playing with his cock while he looked at her. A peek between her thighs told her what he was seeing. A blush crept over her face, and she felt shy, embarrassed. Somehow, though, she felt excitement, too. She had never really been excited when her husband had looked at her that way. He seldom had, anyway. His way was to just grab her and start fucking her, regardless of her feelings. He had never looked at Donna as if he really wanted her, but as a possession. He had looked at her as though she was just a hole for his pleasure.

But Timmy… he was looking at her as if he truly wanted her, found her exciting, lovely to look at. He looked at her as if he not only wanted to fuck her, but to hold her, stroke her, play with her… caress and fondle.

Donna felt her responses toward her son puzzling. Her nipples began to swell, straining out, bulging in tight hardness. Then, too, her cunt was starting to get wet and her clit pressed at the crotch of her panties. She had never felt real desire before, not even for her husband. Now she was surprised to find herself attracted to her son.

She also felt ashamed of her desires, confused and embarrassed. A pink flush burned at her cheeks, and she tried to keep her eyes downcast, but found herself peeking at her son shyly.

Timmy stood up.

"Oh my God!" Donna whispered.

Her sons cock pressed at his shorts, very hard. The tip of his cock was slightly exposed from the stringy fringe. She felt a lurch in her cunt.

Timmy laughed a boyish sound.

"Timmy, please!" Donna whispered, knowing what was on his mind. "You don't know what you're doing."

"I know what I'm doing, Mom," he said. His hips arched forward proudly. The head of his cock slipped into view, swollen, very smooth, about the size of a small, immature plum. Moisture formed on his piss hole.

Donna gasped, shaking, embarrassed to be seeing her son's cock, ashamed of herself for peeking, ashamed because her cunt was responding with increasing wetness. She lowered her eyes, but just as quickly lifted them again, staring at the head of his cock.

Timmy pulled his cut-offs to one side, let his cock stand out, his balls dropping free. Donna couldn't breathe, and she couldn't pull her eyes from them. Timmy stroked his hairless balls a moment, then closed his fist about his cock, stroking back and forth slowly. She listened to his breathing increase and gazed at his cock from her lowered eyes, feeling the heat of her face, the unexpected throbbing of her cunt.

"Timmy, please don't do that," she finally managed to say, her voice coming out in a low whisper.

"I can if I wanna," he replied.

"Timmy, don't!"

"Aw, shut up, Mom," he said, pumping his prick faster. "Don't tell me what I can do or not do." He sounded just like her father, her brother, her husband – every man who had ever dominated her.

"Do it in your room then, please," she said.

"I wanna do it right there," he said. "And I wanna see you, more."

"You want to…" Donna's body jerked.

"Show it to me, Mom!" Timmy demanded. "Lemme see what it looks like."

"See what?" she asked, fearfully, knowing what he was talking about. "Your fucking cunt!" Timmy snapped. "I wanna see your fucking cunt, Mom!"

"Please," Timmy she said, tears forming in her eyes. "You know I'm your mother."

"Show it to me!" he rasped.

Donna's body shook, and she was afraid now, but not that her son would slap her or hit her. He wouldn't do that. No one had ever beaten her. They just made her do what they wanted by words, gestures, and she obeyed. She was afraid her son was going to dominate her just as the others had, and she wouldn't be able to prevent it. She couldn't stop him, she had to do as he said – her way was to obey, just as she had all her life.

Men gave the orders, women obeyed. Men made demands, and women complied. No matter what the man wanted, women had to do it. Donna had been raised that way.

So she did as her son ordered.

She pulled her robe out of her crotch, her fingers shaking.

Her panties were nothing to get excited about. They were standard, the white cotton utility type, not in the least sexy. But her panties weren't what interested Timmy. It was the way her cunt bulged inside the crotch, the strands of curly hair sprouting from the elastic leg.

Timmy pulled the coffee table out of the way, and stood in front of his mother. He shoved her legs apart, staring between them, his cock throbbing in his fist.

When her son told her to shove her ass forward, she did, her shame growing worse. With her ass hanging over the cushions, legs spread, she knew her son could see the wetness of her panties.

He pumped on his cock awhile, then said, "Show it to me now, Mom!"

"Timmy, honey, don't make me do that!" she cried in shame.

"Goddamn it, Mom!"

Her fingers shook so hard, she had trouble trying to pull her panties off. She turned her head to one side in shame, and finally got them from her feet.

Timmy stared with hot eyes at his mother's cunt, seeing the thick hair fanning outward to her hips, curling along the lips of her cunt. When she parted her legs again he saw the pink wetness, the glistening tip of her cunt. Donna's tits rose and fell as she sobbed, humiliated, and unable to do anything about it. When Timmy yanked her robe apart, exposing her tits, she cried harder, her arms hanging loosely at her sides, eyes squeezed shut. Tears seeped from them, making her burning cheeks wet.

Timmy stood between her legs, jacking back and forth on his cock. He had not really expected his mother to obey him, but now that she was, he became bolder. He tested his power over her.

"Hold your cunt!"

"Timmy, dont."

"Hold your fucking cunt, Mom!"

"O God," Donna sobbed, cupping the fingers of her hand about her hairy cunt. She felt the wetness against her palm and she felt heat, too.

"Timmy…"

"Shut up," Timmy groaned. "Shut up and do what I tell you to do!"

"Yes, Timmy," she said softly, meekly.

"Hold it open," he said. "Hold your fucking cunt open for me."

Donna spread the hairy lips of her cunt. She was bright pink with shame from head to foot. But she was excited, too. She didn't understand her excitement. This shame seemed to create a wild, searing heat inside her. Her cunt was pulsing with heat, her clit straining in hardness. She was becoming aroused.

Timmy bent his knees and brushed the head of his cock against her swollen clit. Donna's hips jerked with the contact, and Timmy smashed her sensitive clit with the head of his cock.

"I'm gonna jack off on your fucking cunt, Mom!" Timmy grunted, jerking his fist back and forth.

Donna felt his fist beating against the puffy lips of her cunt. She groaned and couldn't stop herself from peeking down her naked body, watching him.

"I'm gonna come on your fucking cunt!" Timmy groaned. "I'm gonna come on your pussy, Mom! I want you to say it!"

"Say what, Timmy?" she asked.

"Tell me to jack off on your fucking cunt!" he demanded. "I wanna hear you say it!"

"Jack off," Donna murmured.

"Louder, damn it!"

"Jack off," Donna replied, her voice louder. "Jack off!"

Her cunt began to boil as his cock smashed her cunt. She could not stop herself from lifting her hips to him. And she couldn't stop saying those words.

"Jack off, jack off, jack off!"

Time and again she said them, her voice getting louder and louder until she was almost screaming.

"On my cunt! Jack off on my fucking cunt! Come all over mother's fucking cunt!"

"More!" Timmy demanded, pumping faster on his throbbing prick, holding his piss hole tight at her clit.

"Jack off on me! Jack off on my cunt! Come on my fucking cunt, my pussy, my twat, my hot snatch!"

"Better, Mom!" Timmy groaned.

"Jack off… beat off… come off!"

Donna couldn't stop now. "Come all on my cunt! Spurt it over my fucking cunt, Timmy! Cover my fucking cunt with come juice!"

"Fucking cunt!"

"Yes, yes, yes!" Donna screamed, arching her cunt as high as she could. She clawed the hairy lips of her cunt wide apart with her hands. "Fucking cunt! Fucking cunt!"

"You fucking cunt!" Timmy said.

"Yes, I'm a fucking cunt, darling!"

"Your cunt is mine!"

"My cunt is yours?"

Timmy was gasping, staring with filmy heat at his mother's pussy, watching her cunt grinding. He was about to come, and his balls felt tight at the base of his throbbing cock.

His young passions were rampant now. "Fucking cunt!" he shouted down at her.

"Yes, I'm a fucking cunt!"

"I'm gonna come on your fucking cunt, you bitch!"

"Do it, Timmy!" Donna sobbed with increasing ecstasy. Her climax was close, very close. Her pussy had never felt so good before, never burned so hotly, never before threatened to consume her body, her mind, her very being.

"Do it, do it!"

"Do what, cunt!"

"Ooooo, come on me!" Donna shrieked, jerking her crotch up against his cock. "Come on me… on my cunt! Spurt your come juice all over mother's hot cunt!"

"You want it, bitch?"

"Tell me, slut! Tell me what you want cunt!"

"Come!" Donna shouted. "I want you to come on me, on my pussy!"

"On your fucking cunt?"

"On my fucking cunt!"

"Want me to fuck you?"

"Yes! Ohhhhh, God, yes! Fuck me, Timmy! Fuck my cunt! Fuck mother's cunt!"

"Want my cock in your pussy!"

"Yes! Yes! Stick it in my pussy, Timmy!"

"Want me to fuck you! Mother?"

"Please, please!" Donna gurgled, her head twisting from side to side, tears of shameful ecstasy pouring from her eyes. She held the hairy lips of her cunt as far apart as she could, churning her ass up and down, round and round. "Fuck me! Fuck me! Timmy, fuck my pussy! Fuck mother's cunt!"

Timmy suddenly grunted, his fist pounding frantically on his cock. The thick juice of his balls suddenly spewed, splashing over his mother's cunt. Spunk coated her hands, matted into her pussy hair. Donna squealed as she felt come juice burning on her cunt. The more her son gushed his come juice over her pussy, the better she felt. She could feel his jizz on the lips of her open cunt. She jerked her head forward, eyes blazing, watching her son come all over her crotch, smearing her pussy with boiling, creamy come juice.

"Me too!" she screamed. "Ohhhh, Timmy! I'm going to come too!"

Donna screamed with ecstasy as her cunt contracted, waves of orgasms running through her. She strained her crotch against his cock, her clitoris totally crushed beneath his spurting pisshole. Her cunt was drenched in his come juice.