Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
This is my stand-alone submission for the April Fool’s Day 2019 contest. For readers of my other “Mom is a…” story, this is not a continuance, nor is the plot in any way comparable. This one was purely for fun and should not be taken seriously in any way, shape, or form!
Thanks & Enjoy.
Mom is a Fool
It was a lazy Saturday afternoon and I’d spent most of it playing video games, doing little more than performing a disservice to the world by turning oxygen into carbon dioxide. Not that I was a waste of space in general. It was just that kind of weekend; the kind that’s meant for squandering after a week of toil and sweat. Football season was long over, I wasn’t raised the church-going type, and all I had to distract myself was Mom and digitized violence.
At last, I heard it; the trap had finally been sprung. An air horn howled, then followed Mom’s piercing scream, including a few choice four-letter words. I chuckled and shut off the TV in my room, expecting my victim to appear momentarily.
The door swung open and I beheld my sweet Ma. Her face was red and her mouth gaped opened and closed like a suffocating fish. The front of her pants was wet between her legs.
“Look what you made me do!” she squawked, swinging her forearms up and down like she was about to karate chop her crotch.
I couldn’t help it; I roared with laughter which made her even more furious. She steamed in my doorway, stomping her feet and sputtering like she’d swallowed an ant.
“You…you…you’re gonna pay for this, Dax! You little…” She couldn’t say it. She couldn’t call me names; she was too much of a sweetheart. Maybe that’s why I’d done it, or maybe it was the boredom, or maybe it was because I loved it when she got all fired up.
I didn’t have time for further contemplations because at that moment my sweet little Mom did something so unexpected that my body lost the ability to do anything but stare in surprise. She took off her pants and reared back to throw them at me. My eyes drifted south as I proved unable to affect the type of control one would typically posses in such a situation. What drew my attention wasn’t so much her bare skin as the sheer nature of her wet panties. I learned two things that lazy afternoon: Mom was apparently skilled with a razor, and her choice of undies was racier than I’d ever considered.
I had only a split second to appreciate her exquisite landing strip and the contours of her dainty nethers, brought to clarity through the thin wet fabric that hugged her feminine curves. Her hips twisted and she launched her jeans through my doorway, or tried, at least. The heavy denim got wrapped around her fist which threw her off balance, causing her to punch the door frame. To make matters worse, her feet weren’t in the right spots and her lack of coordination sent her hips shooting out sideways while the rest of her petite frame folded and fell to the ground in a heap.
You see, Mom is a fool.
Don’t get me wrong; she’s not stupid, far from it. Her problems were entirely caused by her trusting nature, outgoing demeanor, and complete lack of coordination. Mom had a spirited and whimsical streak to the point of fairly being labeled a frisky flirt. This conflicting combination of characteristics only served to get her into trouble time and time again. She would ask for it and be surprised when she got it, and then she’d lack the common sense or motor skills to extricate herself from the situation. I had bailed her out of some shit over the years and I’m barely old enough to order a shot at the bar.
“Help me up, Dax!”
Mom was hopelessly twisted up in her soiled jeans, flailing about on the floor. She flipped over, finally able to get to her knees, and it took everything I had to keep my mouth shut. Her underwear seemed to be missing the majority of its material when it came around to her backside. Mom’s ass was tight and I couldn’t help but pause for a gander. Christ, look at those smooth curves! I had no idea. Well, that’s not entirely true; let’s just say I’d never stood staring at her like an idiot before.
Her head started to turn back towards me and I snapped out of my trance just in time to avoid being caught with my mouth hanging open. I stepped forward and grabbed her narrow waist and hoisted her little body up with one quick tug. I stood easily a foot over her; I was never a small boy. People loved making stupid comments when we were out together. “That poor lady, how’d that giant ever fit inside her.” Christ, thanks for the visualization, jackass.
“Umph,” she grunted as I set her down. “Thanks, dear.” She spun around and thwacked my chest with her jeans.
“Sorry ’bout that, Ma,” I offered, raising my arms in self-defense in case she decided to take another swing. I had intended to surprise her, but not enough that she’d wet herself and then proceed to act the fool in my doorway. The tricks were a thing we’ve done for years and trust me when I say she could dish it out as well as she could take it. I didn’t really feel bad; I knew my time was coming and I’d have to bahis firmaları be extra careful now.
“I’m gonna get you, Dax! You best sleep with one eye open.” Mom spoke harshly but then her cute face split into a toothy grin. She wasn’t good at making threats; she was too nice.
Mom turned to leave and my mischievous brain convinced me of something I rightfully shouldn’t have considered. I reached out as she took her first step and swatted her bare ass. Smack! It was glorious; she jumped and turned red, both in the face and on her tight little cheek. She gawked at me and couldn’t speak a word. Unable to control myself, I barked out a laugh at her stupid look and how she was rubbing a hand over her welted backside. I looked down at her wet patch again; her panties pulled up tight into her and creased a line through those dinky little lady lips. Fuck! I felt something that scared me a bit and shut my door in a flash before the creature in my pants woke up and betrayed my devilish thoughts.
“Just you wait, Daxton!” she yelled through my door.
Shit! It wasn’t ever good when she used my full name. My mind went elsewhere. I couldn’t get the sight of her out of my head; that thong, that ass, that toe in the front. Hrrng. I needed a girlfriend, bad. But I just had one and she was the worst, so I was taking a much-needed hiatus from that unpleasant drama.
Mom’s history with dating was even worse than mine. Her combination of being a gullible tease attracted the absolute sleaziest fucks imaginable. Dad was one; he was built like I am and probably loved throwing her clumsy little ass around the bed. They never married and he’s long gone now, in jail for all I knew; we hadn’t spoken in a decade. Even when he was around, he wasn’t really there. Mom had never had a guy who was really there like she needed; well, except for me. But I’m not exactly reaping any benefits from this relationship other than having a roommate to split rent and a square meal at night; not that it had ever occurred to me before this moment that maybe I deserved a bit more from my dear sweet Ma. I’d always been content to keep her round little ass out of trouble as long as I could live in peace.
I had a day job, but it wasn’t something you’d call fulfilling or remotely resembling a career. Mom was always harping on me to go back to school or get trained to do something useful with my life, but I lacked the motivation. School learning wasn’t for me and I was perfectly happy slinging deli meats, stuffing sausage, and throwing messy sandwiches together for the suckers who toiled behind a desk all day. That also wasn’t for me; I couldn’t sit in a box all day and stare at a screen; TPS reports and shit, screw that noise. I had to be on my feet and talking to people and working in a place where I could cus and mess around with my buddies and generally be myself. Put a tie around my neck and I’d just as soon knot it to a meat hook and step off the chair. Fuck everything about that; life is something you gotta live. I just hadn’t figured out how I could live my life and still be whatever it was Mom thought I should be.
Regardless of all that, Mom and I were tight; we always had been. I needed her and she needed me, and until either of us got our shit together, that co-dependency would remain central to everything. I didn’t mind; she was the sweetest little thing I knew. And when she got fired up or after she had a few glasses of wine, she was downright fun as fuck to be around; hence the trickery and tomfoolery. What I did was only one small act in a years-long battle that we waged in secret. I think it started with a water balloon to the face, to my face. And then there was a bucket above a door, some fun with paint and jello, maybe a little shaving cream or warm water at night. We never took our little games too far, at least not to the point where someone got hurt or pants were taken off.
Mom had awoken a sleeping devil inside me when she flashed her goods my way and I could focus on nothing else but how to get her undressed again. It was her turn though; I’d have to wait for payback and I was certain she’d derive some evil plan of equal or greater magnitude than the one I had perpetrated. I’d hidden an air horn under her chair and rigged it up so that when she sat down it would go off. Apparently, that scare had caused her to tinkle a bit, which was a new turn of events. Hell, it was more than a bit, she was sopping wet! Hrrng. There I go again. I knew this would mean an escalation to our war; she’d be looking to bring in the artillery.
I’d have to wait three agonizing days for her retribution. But it was worth the anxiety; sneaky little fox got me good!
I rolled out of bed, still half asleep and less than half dressed and crossed the hall to our shared bathroom. I didn’t bother to flip the light on; in my drowsy state I hardly even closed the door. My body was screaming so loud I simply tossed the seat up and let ‘er rip. It took me a full ten seconds to realize something was wrong; the sound wasn’t right.
“Dammit, Ma!” I hollered, painfully pinching off my torrent and looking down at the mess. A puddle kaçak iddaa hovered inexplicably over the bowl and my stupefied brain took a few seconds to process what she’d done. Plastic wrap! That tricky little minx.
The light switched on and I jumped. My wang was still dangling out, the one part of me that was awake. Mom gasped and covered her mouth with both hands.
“Dax! Put that thing away!”
“Mom! What the fuck?!” She was standing in the doorway staring at my junk with big white circles around her dark brown eyes.
I’m not gonna lie; I’m not shy about how I look. I know chicks dig it; I get hit on all day at work and could be bringing a fuck buddy home each night if that was my game. But it’s not, I can’t handle that drama, and besides, it’s a little weird with Mom around. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to brag and I’m certainly not claiming to be some freak of elephantine proportions, but I knew what was up and I’d seen that look before; the one Mom was making. She wanted it and I loved it.
I twisted my hips and wagged my semi at her while watching her pupils jump back and forth. My dear sweet Ma was hypnotized. She turned bright red and shut the door, but it took her about thirty seconds longer than it should have. Interesting, I considered, as I finally tucked my dangly bits away and looked at the mess I’d made. It wasn’t too bad and within five minutes I had the throne unwrapped and back in shape.
I was sporting a pretty hefty chub at this point, and not due to cleaning up piss, weirdo. I was daydreaming about Mom’s tight little body and the way she was watching my dingaling wave at her with those big brown eyes. I was replacing some cleaning supplies under the sink and saw something that instantly gave me a devilish idea. I set the trap, ruining the work I’d just done cleaning up the toilet; but it didn’t matter, this was gonna be worth it.
I left the bathroom distracted, wearing naught but my inflated Jockey’s and practically bowled Mom over. I reached out to grab her before her ungainly sense of balance knocked her to the floor again. I took hold of her upper arm and jerked her towards me which had the unintended effect of pulling her hand right into my swollen goods. I felt her short little fingers wrap around my shaft and heard a heavy sigh blow through her thin parted lips. I twitched and she gasped and started moving her palm in herky-jerky motions as she willed her body to commit a sin she knew was wrong. I grew hard in an instant and Mom’s lingering fingers continued to poke and prod my package.
“Ma?” I asked with a quizzical slant to my brow. She seemed to have no inclination of letting my cock loose. Not that I minded, but she was being a bit of a tease and I wondered greatly at her intent.
“Ah! Sorry!” she blurted as if she’s suddenly woken up from a bender and found herself in an embarrassing situation. She turned bright red again and refused to make eye contact.
“That was a good one, by the way.” I’d hoped altering the topic may distract her from her wandering hand.
“Thanks!” she squeaked. “Took me a couple of days to think of something.”
“I have no idea what to do now. But you better watch out!” I growled menacingly at her and chased her down the hall with my cock flopping around inside my briefs. She dashed into her bedroom and slammed the door shut. I turned the handle just to tease her and heard a thud as she flung her limited bodyweight against the inside. As if that could stop me!
“I’m gonna get you!” I threatened, knocking softly on the door. I’d already set my trap and now she wouldn’t expect a thing, it was perfect.
“Leave me be, Dax! I have errands to run.” I left and returned to my room to dress for work.
My mind turned circles thinking about Mom’s dainty fingers curled around my dick. Gods, it felt so good and so wrong. It was exciting beyond anything I’d experienced and I inexplicably felt myself wanting more. I dawdled, hoping that Mom would trip my trap before I had to leave for work. I very much wanted to be here when she did.
As luck would have it, the reason I’d run into her outside the bathroom was that she was waiting in line. I heard the shower kick on and then a half minute later came a scream and a crash and a thud.
“Daxton! You little shit!”
Oh, fuck! She’d actually called me a bad name this time. I rushed to the door and pushed it open and the scene I beheld told the story in a blink. Mom had sat on the vaseline-coated seat I’d prepared and somehow managed to slip off. Then, upon fearing her imminent collision with the floor, she reached out and grabbed the closest means of support: the towel rack. She was buck ass naked, slipping and sliding around on her lubricated bottom with a towel rack across her knees and bits of drywall dust in her dark hair.
Mom’s titties were hopping all over the place and I had a hard time focusing on anything else as she tried her hardest to find a clear patch of vinyl on which to plant a foot and stand. They were two little bouncy peaches; perkier than they had a right to be and tipped with hard dark points that stared at me kaçak bahis like googly eyes stuck on a pair of maracas in the hands of a drunk. Gods, to think I used to suck on those plump little fruits. Hrrng.
“Don’t just stand there staring! Help me up, you doofus!” Mom had given up, she was sitting with her taut short legs pointed straight at me and that manicured line of short curlies marching up towards her belly. I wanted to pounce right on her tight petite body and fuck her in circles on that slippery bathroom floor. Christ! What the hell, man. That’s my sweet little Ma.
I shook the pervert out of my head, momentarily at least, and walked over her legs and reached down. I picked her up by her skinny waist and spun her around to the rug and set her down, all the while staring at those two jiggly mounds. And then my eyes dropped down; I had to see those lady lips again, this time fully in the flesh. Damn, they were pretty, two bare bumps split by the faintest crease with just a hint of pink poking through. My little brain took control at that moment and it told me to slide my hand down her thigh. I picked up a fingertip or two of petroleum jelly along the way and poked my thick digit right in the middle of that soft pile of skin.
Mom moaned and gasped at the same time but said nothing and made no attempt to move away. I pushed my finger through her tight little pussy until I felt her heat. God damn, she was wet! I curled up and sunk a knuckle into her tightness, pushing against her outsides, too, because I could tell she liked that. Her tiny clit was on fire and every time I moved against it her hips jerked a bit and a cute little whimper shot out her mouth. I dipped another knuckle into Mom’s scorching hole and felt around a bit until I found the spot I knew drove some girls wild. I didn’t have to hunt for it; Mom’s little body put it right on the tip of my thick finger like I was meant to go back in there and find it for her.
I was getting into it now; my finger hooked up inside Mom’s pussy, sliding through her lips and popping in and out of her quivering body. Each time I reached up and swiped that fleshy patch of nerve endings, Mom would yelp. I pulled out and glided across her hard little nub and watched her knees quake like was wearing ice skates and had no idea how to use them. She couldn’t move except by accident; I had her well and truly wrapped around my finger. She started gushing and slurpy wet sounds joined her verbal dissonance of whines and whimpers. I could feel her weight pushing down against my hand like she wanted it harder, either that or her legs were turning into jello. Seemed like a little from both columns and so I obliged, lifting up hard and practically picked her writhing body off the floor by my middle finger.
Mom exploded the second I jerked her up onto her tippy toes. She screamed so hard my ears hurt and then doubled over and backed away with a hand wrapped tight around her sopping snatch. I’d just made her come; I could see her lady juices leaking down between her thighs as she turned and leaned against the sink for support. Her vaseline-coated ass was shaking and bouncing as her insides did jumping jacks. I grabbed a washcloth, thinking maybe I’d be a good son and clean up some of the mess I’d made of her perfect little backside but as soon as that cloth touched her skin Mom yelped and swatted my hand away.
“You’ve done quite enough, mister.” Her face was pink and her eyes were misty, staring at me through the mirror. All I could do was shrug and leave her be. I gave her butt a little pat when I walked past, as much to say thanks as sorry. Though I didn’t feel the need to apologize for that last part, just the vaseline and the towel rack.
Damn, I just fingered Mom in the bathroom! Seeing her petite body squirming all over the floor set something off in me and I couldn’t hope to explain it. I’d never been one to shy away from a girl’s attention, but at the same time, I wasn’t exactly out there hunting for poon on a daily basis. I simply couldn’t control it, and that was something new and just a tad confusing.
To say I’d spent my workday at the butcher’s shop in a muddled mess of distracting contradictions would be a significant understatement. I damn near sliced my thumb off trimming up a rack of lamb and definitely lost part of a fingernail inside someone’s pastrami sandwich. My bad, you sorry lookin’ desk jockey.
Mom was home when my day ended; she was a teacher and it was summer break, so she had a lot of time on her hands at the moment. It seemed she passed her days doing yoga and watching TV shows that were only suitable for mass-murdering brain cells. I’d encouraged her to look for part-time work in the hopes she’d maybe find a man worthy of her time, but so far she’d managed to screw that up, too. She had a few opportunities in the past but they always ended in a disaster typical of her foolishness. She left the register open at the grocery store and someone made off with a stack of twenties. She dropped a pot of coffee and burned her legs and couldn’t walk right for two weeks. Last year, I got her hooked up at my place of employ but she tripped over a tub of ground beef, broke her wrist, and ruined a hundred pounds of burger. She couldn’t work anymore that summer, not that my boss wanted her klutzy ass back around all those sharp objects.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32