still remember the day like it was yesterday. In Mexico every year it is recognized as the day it won its independence from Spain. And for my mother Maria and I, September 16, 2001, a similar kind of liberation was won. It was the day we headed for the United States. My mother and I were only 37 and 18, respectively. I wish I could tell you my father's age but my mother ceased to speak about him when he left us when I was only five years old. And thinking back, you could say that a lot of the hardships that had befallen us, and forced us to migrate to the United States were because my father had left us. Life was hard in Mexico as it was, and my mother, after trying to make a living by being a street vendor, finally decided to migrate to the "promise land" and make it a point to give me the advantages that she was so unjustifiably denied. So on that 16th of September exactly one year ago, we stepped out of our small shanty and headed north, never to return again.
I remember reaching a small, abandoned warehouse near the Texas/Mexican border after walking through a few miles of rough, dry terrain. My mother spoke to an older man when we arrived as I stood back trying to decipher the words being pushed through their lips. He wore a very distinct black vaquero hat with plumage on the side. A cigarette tactfully bounced up and down as he spoke. I could only see my mother's back standing there looking up at him in her black skirt, white shirt, and half heel shoes. We did not have any money, and everything we owned we carried with us. My mother finally came to me and told me that the man would help smuggle us in to the United States. She pointed to a white van, and informed me that, that was our ticket to a better future.
"Miguel," she called to me. "I have to work out some details with Mr. Rivera, so you will have to wait for me here mijo," she told me before disappearing into a confined part of the abandoned warehouse.
I did not know much at the time about how the world operated. I did know that we had no money and that this Mr. Rivera was helping us a great deal through the kindness of his heart. While I pondered life, I began to hear her. Sounds that undeniably belonged to my mother escaped her mouth and were carried to my ear by the wind. As I followed the sounds and neared them, they became even more evident. At first my heart raced at the thought that the sounds were manufactured by a state of panic. Upon reaching the room and peaking in through a dusty broken window I realized that my mother's sounds were those of pleasure.
That was the first time I ever saw my mother's body without any garments concealing her body from my eyes. She laid on a small, dusty, wooden table, with her blouse unbuttoned and spread apart exposing her breasts. I remember it like yesterday, her large breasts bouncing slightly up and down, her dark, broad nipples imitating the same movement. Her face was contorted by what I assumed were feelings of both pleasure and pain. Her mouth remained open while she panted. Her black skirt was pulled up and was wrapped around her waist. Her panties on the floor, and her black half heel shoes were still on her feet, with her legs wrapped around the old man's waist. Her hands taking a strong hold of the table exposing her thick black hairy underarms. And Mr. Rivera, who I had previously labeled as a kind-hearted man, stood over my mom, with his pants around his ankles, taking advantage of my mother right before my eyes. He pulled at her hips to meet his thrusts, bumping his thick bush against hers and at times wiping the sweat from his forehead. I remained frozen and remarkably stayed to provide an audience for my mother's taking. The dirty old man finally slumped over my mother as he surged his last stab deep inside her. He remained plumped over her for a good minute gasping for oxygen, and pinning her to the hard wooden table. I ran back to the spot where my mother insisted I stay.
My stomach turned and twisted with every image that my mind flashed before my eyes while I waited for my mother's return. You cannot imagine the feelings a young, 18 year old man experiences when he sees his mother in that circumstance. I felt betrayal and anger for her being at another man's side, when all my life she had been by mine. Disgust and anguish for seeing my mother violated and taken advantage of like a cheap whore. Love and admiration for the extent she would go through for the betterment of our future. And also a lustful sensation from seeing her naked body being dominated.
Four men, also illegal immigrants, jumped in the back of the van. My mother and Mr. Rivera finally resurfaced and the three of us jumped into the front seat. As Mr. Rivera put the van in drive and stepped on the gas I laid my head on the van door using my arm as a pillow, and urged my mind to forget what it had witnessed. My mother rested her head on my shoulder and caressed my arm as a signal that everything we wanted would soon become reality. As we rode the bumpy dirt road, my mind and body finally succumbed to its desire to sleep.
After what seemed like hours I finally silently opened my eyes. Still bewildered from the sleep and the absence of the sun, I remained with my head leaning on my arm. I peeked over to my left to see my mother. Like a fast surge, the sickly feeling my stomach had previously felt quickly found its way back as I saw my mother's face planted deep in Mr. Rivera's lap. I felt the familiar anger, and disgust, as well as the excitement that I had previously had. I did not know how much more of the whole ordeal I could sustain. I just sat there with my head leaning on my arm, pretended to be asleep, and concentrated on how my mother wrapped her big pouty lips on this wretched man's big sweaty cock. She must have been in that position for a good 10 minutes before his big hand rested on her head, and then grabbing her pretty, curly, black hair commanded the speed of her bobbing head. I saw his eyes roll back a bit as his body convulsed and released his hot nasty cum straight into my mother's mouth. If I remember correctly, it was his orgasm that almost ran the van off the road and caused everyone to wake up abruptly. I rose up, as did my mother trying to wipe her mouth.
"Are you alright mijo," I remember her asking as I looked in her eyes and ran my hand through her pretty, curly, black hair removing some of Mr. Rivera's cum.
"Yes mami, I am fine," I reassured her.
"Why don't we take a break while we are all up," Mr. Rivera announced.
I was ready to pull over and get out for a stretch as well as try to talk to my mother about all that I had witnessed. But for some odd reason, that I would soon come to understand, my mother did not want to pull over and take a break just yet. Mr. Rivera of course paid her objection no mind and pulled over anyways.
The four men in the back of the van as well as Mr. Rivera sneaked off to the neighboring bushes to relieve themselves while my mother and I stayed by the van and had an opportunity to talk.
"Mami, I..I… I don't think we have to continue. I think we can go back to Mexico and I will try to find work." I began to tell her. "Maybe I can be a…."
"Shhhhhhhhh," she told me as she put her finger over my lips. "We are already in the Unites States, and we are almost arriving at Houston. I want the best for you, and you are going to get it."
"But mami, I don't like what I have been seeing, you don't have to…"
"Look at me," she interrupted again. "You don't know what is going on, ok? You just concentrate on our future and what awaits us. You don't worry about me. That is my job you hear. Now why don't you get in the van and wait for me while I go and try to pee somewhere," she instructed, as she guided me in the van, and closed the door.
I looked at my mother wanting to talk to her, wanting to hold her in my arms, wanting to tell her that I appreciated her, and that I wish I could do something to avoid all that was happening. I vowed to do well for myself in the U.S. and repay her for all she had done for me. I saw her outline disappear in the night behind the bushes. I rested my head back and through the windshield looked up at the clear sky. I thought about seeing my mother being fucked by Mr. Rivera, and her mouth around his cock, and how it made me feel mad, disgusted, as well as excited. I knew I should not feel excited about the situation my mother was in so I tried to bury those taboo, incestuous feelings of excitement deep in the back of my mind.
After 10 minutes I finally realized that neither my mother nor Mr. Rivera and the four other men had returned. This time the feelings in my stomach resurfaced almost automatically like an instinctive force cluing me in on the activities going on around me. I stepped out of the van and quietly and carefully stepped through the thick bushes. I finally heard her familiar moans and directed my pace towards them. Surely the men would have heard me if it weren't for her loud moans, but I managed to sneak in close behind the bushes and see my mother naked once again this time on the ground. This time she was completely naked. Although it was night, I could see my mother's big swollen breasts once again bouncing and slapping on her chest, her legs spread wide open exposing her thick black bush, her arms clenching the ground exposing her hairy pits, all visible in the light of Mr. Rivera's lamp conveniently hanging on a nearby tree. One of the men kneeled in front of her holding her legs on his shoulders and stabbing his cock deep inside her cunt. I figured she knew this was coming, and was probably the reason she was not so eager to pull over.
I remember being confused. What was I to do? I wanted to stop it and rescue her but she would hate me if I screwed this up. After all she was doing this for me, and for our future. But again I just felt like I wanted her in my arms, wanting to help her, and hold her. I remained there looking on as the four men and Mr. Rivera took turns violating my mother, and rewarding her with load after load of hot, white cum. With those feelings of wanting to console her I also conjured up those feelings of excitement. My cock raged hard, and I slid my hand under my pants to feel its hardness. It was wrong what I felt but those feelings were undeniable. I almost sinfully began to stroke myself, but was stopped my Mr. Rivera finally instructing the men to return to the van.
I made my way back to the van and waited for their return. My mother walked awkwardly towards the van, her hair a bit dirty from the ground. She got in not saying a word, pretending like nothing had happened. This time she fell asleep and I remained awake while I held her head on my lap. I stroked my mother's hair and beautiful face and knew it would soon be over as the distance to Houston became shorter and shorter.
I remember finally arriving in Houston, in another inner-city warehouse type building. It was a sort of bus service with quite a few people around. As soon as we exited the van I grabbed my mother's hand and decided it was time to leave Mr. Rivera, and put the entire ordeal behind us. We managed to hide ourselves from him in the crowd of people, and slowly made our way out. I knew that if we stuck around I would have to witness further payment of services from my mother to Mr. Rivera. That was the last time my mother and I would ever see of him.
After finally putting Mr. Rivera and the horrible smuggling fiasco behind us we concentrated on finding work in the new country. It took about three to four months before my mother found steady work, but we managed to stay at a shelter for homeless and underprivileged citizens. I remember when she came to the shelter excited about her new job. She had found a housekeeper position for a wealthy Caucasian male and his wife. Furthermore it was a live-in job and my mother informed me that that week was our last at the shelter and we would soon have our own room in a lucrative up-scale house. Mr. Smith, as she called him, was even able to get greencards for us. Now I could attend the local junior college while my mother worked. Things were finally looking up, so I thought until our first day in our new home.
I remember spending that first day in Mr. Smith's house organizing our room. The gracious man even purchased new clothes for us. When I first saw the two beds in the room for my mother and I, it felt like a dream come true. It had been a good four months since we had slept in a decent mattress. That night we even had dinner with Mr. Smith and his wife, and it felt like we were honored guests. Only thing that ran through my mind at that time was that our lives were finally looking promising. My mother had a job, I was going to start college, we had our own room, new clothes, and even greencards, but later that night I learned again that nothing comes without a price.
It must have been about midnight. My mother had fallen asleep after talking to me about our new circumstance. I, still filled with excitement, was unable to succumb to my sleep, and managed to be awake when I saw our door cracked open. My eyes had already adjusted to the dark, and I saw a figure slide in to our room and head to my mother's bedside. I soon recognized that the figure belonged to Mr. Smith, and my mother's words further substantiated my conclusion.
"But my son Senor, please, not our first night," I heard her whisper.
I had again been fooled to think that kind-hearted people existed in this world. It seemed like I was transported back to that warehouse where I first saw my mother being used by another old man. The same gut wrenching feelings came back to me, as it was apparent that my ears were about to witness my mother's taking once again.
"Come on now Maria, I thought you liked it. You did not seem to have any problems yesterday when you wanted the job," Mr. Smith whispered.
That was the end of the dialogue, and the next sound I heard was the rustling of clothes being pulled down and off. I supposed my mother really had no option. I heard a muffled moan from both of them apparently from his initial penetration of my mother. I pretended to be asleep, but stayed awake for the entire 15 minutes of moans, kisses, and squeaking. At first I placed my pillow against my ears, almost wanting to cry out, and show Mr. Smith that she was my mother and that I was letting no one take her from me. But eventually the pillow was released and I shamefully listened to my mother's taking, and saw their outlines, with him on top of her, and her legs wrapped around his waist.
After his departure from the room, I deliberated what action to take. Should I attempt to talk and console her? Or maybe she wanted to pretend that I was oblivious to everything that was going on. I thought about maybe informing Mrs. Smith of her husband's despicable act, but I knew that that would only lead to our ousting. What I had thought was our dream come true was only another disadvantaged situation for my mother to endure. I remember deciding to not attend school, and get work instead to rescue my mother once and for all. After all we had greencards now, and no one could take those away from us. Eventually I fell asleep, vowing to be the man that my mother had worked so hard to raise.
The next morning, after bathing and getting dressed and preparing to head out to find work, I saw a French maid's uniform laid out on my mother's bed.
"Mami?" I asked her. "Is this your uniform."?
"Si, mijo, I don't like it too much, but what can I do," she replied as she grabbed the uniform and pressed against her body to show me. "You don't like it?"
"No mami, not really. And about last night."
"Oh my look at the time mijo. You need to get to that college and enroll before you miss out," she instructed in an attempt to thwart my discussion of the activities of the previous night.
"Yes mami, of course," I assured her, as I gave her a kiss and headed out determined to find work.
It took two weeks but I finally got hired on as a labor worker with a manufacturing company. And it could not of came at a better time. I remember the day because of another incident I witnessed that day. I came to inform my mother of my new occupation, and that I was going to get her out of this hellhole. As I walked in the house I heard those all to familiar sounds my mother had grown accustomed to. The moans and groans grew louder as I neared the living room. Peeking behind the wall, I saw my mother bent over the sofa, with her French maid uniform raised up exposing her ass, and her black fishnet stockings pulled down to her ankles. Mr. Smith, pumped his cock deep in her ass, sending jolts through her body, and making her tits finally bounce out of her uniform, and bounce wildly like water-filled balloons. So many times of witnessing my mom in these sort of predicaments, and I still felt that same gut-wrenching feeling in my stomach, and that exciting tingle in my cock that I so desperately tried to suppress. When he finally reached his climax, he pulled out of her ass and insisted on spreading his hot white cum all over her fat tits. My mother spread his ooze all over them with her hand, probably knowing that that was what he liked. I retreated to my room and waited about 45 minutes before she entered.
"Mijo, what are you doing here?" she surprisingly asked me. "Why are you not in school?"
I was reluctant to tell her that I had not been attending school, but I was so excited to tell her that I had managed to find work. She was furious at first, yelling and telling me that it was her job to take care of me, and that it was my job to attend school in order to have a better future. I was unmoved in my position, and I informed her that I had rented us a small one-bedroom apartment, and that Mr. Smith no longer had to be a part of our lives. Her eyes teared up, and her emotions got the best of her, impending her from arguing with me about my choices. We left that very day, but not without a small hand written letter to Mrs. Smith from me.
After seeing my mother being taking advantage of by Mr. Rivera on our trip to America, and Mr. Smith while living under his house for three months, we finally had what we wanted. We had an apartment, and although it was tiny, it was a place my mother and I could call home. I had a steady job, and was able to provide food and clothing. We also had greencards, and most importantly each other, and without having to succumb to greedy, horny old men. After about two months in our new place, I finally had enough money to sign up for part time classes at the local junior college. I remember that day as well, as I was so excited to run home to tell my mother, that I had finally taken a step towards college, like she always dreamed about.
I remember pulling and parking in my usual spot. Suddenly a new, white Cadillac pulled up about three spots down from me. I remember admiring the beautiful car, and then witnessing my mother open and come out from the passenger door. At first I was confused. What was she doing with this man, and who was he. Then I became infuriated when I noticed her wearing an extravagantly short skirt, with high heels shoes, and a very tight halter-top. What finally topped it off was the wad of cash the man handed to her before he drove off.
After doing everything in my power to expel her from the live that she was forced to live, it seemed that she was right back into it. I don't think in my entire life I had ever been more infuriated and sick, than at that very moment. I followed her up to our apartment, opening the door abruptly and calling out to her. I swung the bedroom door open, after realizing where she was."Mami!!" I yelled at her as she sat on the bed taking her high heel shoes off. "What the hell is going on, why are you dressed like that, and who was that man?!!"
"Mijo, what are you, why aren't you at work," she responded in an attempt to divert from the obvious. I could see her face getting red, and her voice a bit shaky.
"I have witnessed you with men ever since we left Mexico. I know you did what you had to do but that is in the past now. I work for us and I support us now. Why are you still doing this Mami!!!!!"? I yelled at her uncontrollably.
"Please son, don't misunderstand me. I am your mother, and it is my duty to support you. I can't just sit around here and watch you do all the work, without doing anything to help," she cried to me. "I wanted to help with the bills, and I tried finding a regular job, but no one is willing to hire me. Please mijo, I only wanted to help you, and this is the only thing that I have been able to do since we arrived in America.
"My mind has not been able to forget about Mr. Rivera fucking you like a cheap whore, and you being gangbanged by five guys in the bushes, and your role-playing shenanigans with Mr. Smith, but I tried mami, I tried so hard not to go crazy, so I could help you. So I could be the man you tried to raise. So I could support you like you needed to be supported," I yelled and implored. "So many times I was anguished because you were being taken by other man instead of being by side."
"No mijo, its not like that," she yelled back, standing up and putting her hands on my shoulders, shaking me a bit trying to make me understand.
"Don't tell me how it is Mami," I replied furiously, pushing her back down on the bed. "You don't know how it is too see the only woman you ever loved being fucked so many times and being helpless to do anything about it."
"Please mijo, forgive me," she told me, with her hands over her face, and weeping.
"That's why I have done all this mami. I have done so much so you wouldn't have to, but here you are again, in the same situation. I understood what you did, and why you did it, but now, what about now mami. Do you like it mami? Do you like being fucked? Do you like being a cheap slut?
"Wait a minute Miguel, I am still you mother and I wont allow you to talk to me like that," she cried, with tears traveling down both her cheeks.
"No!! You wait a minute. So many times I have seen your naked body being used, and all I wanted to do was rescue you. Now that I have done that, this is how you repay me. You are my mother damn it. You belong to me." I yelled, getting in her face as she sat on the bed. "You will not be wearing this hooker shoes," I yelled as I forcefully removed them from her feet. "And you will not be wearing these slutty fishnet stockings," I instructed as I ripped them off of her legs.
"Miguel, stop it, stop it what are you doing," she cried as she tried to push me away.
"And I don't want to see you in this skanky skirt," I screamed as I pulled it off down her legs, bearing her panty less crotch.
"Miguel, mijo, please your scaring me," she insisted as I got on the bed between her naked legs and ripped her top off of her tits.
I remember at that point, I had removed every bit of trashy piece of garment off of her, and I lay on top of her between her legs. Still furious, I wiped her eyes, trying to remove her dark eye shadow. I tried to remove her bright red lipstick. I remember her face being smeared with black and red colors, her hair messed up and entangled like so many times before.
I kind of paused, my anger subsiding a bit, a bit exhausted by the yelling and ripping of clothes. I looked at her beneath me, still weeping. I remember questioning my actions, asking myself what I was doing. I also remember getting excited, with my naked mother's body finally being beneath mine instead of a stranger's.
"Mami, I, I don't know what came over me, I'm sorry I."
"Its ok mijo, I understand how much you have been through," she interrupted me. "This is all completely my fault," she continued, while wiping her tears.
I remember her grabbing my head and pressing it against her chest. The fact that she was completely naked almost went unnoticed. We lay there together like a mother comforting her son. I had not felt like that since we left Mexico. She continued to apologize to me, vowing to do right by me, and thanking me for everything I had done for her. With my head on her chest I could feel her nervous heart. Whether it was cause of her apologetic state of mind or whether cause her breast and nipple were but inches away from my face I do not know.
I took it upon myself to put my arms under her and embrace her like I had longed for such a long time. I pressed her against me, my face being captured between her enormous mounds. She embraced back, leaning in and causing her breasts to further tease my face. So many times I had seen those nipples in the last past year and now they were right in front of me. I don't remember exactly how it happened but soon my mouth was wrapped around her nipple, like I had done as a young boy.
There was no other man anymore. My mother was finally by my side again. And I sucked on my mother's nipple like a little baby. My mother's sobbing quickly turned into those soft moans of pleasure I had heard so many times. But this time it was me giving her pleasure.
"Ay, mijo," I remember her moaning softly, giving me the indication that it was my turn to take her.
After sucking on her dark large nipple for a good while faced her eye to eye. My beautiful mother, laying there with her hair entangled and her makeup covering her face, looked deep into my eyes, as if giving me permission to take her as so many had done before. I kissed her mouth deeply, in an attempt to get closer to my mother like we once were, and to erase all the other men who had kissed her. She was mine now, and I was going to prove it to her by dominating her body.
"Ay, mijo, yes. Take me mijo. So good you have been to me, and I have not repaid you. So many other men I have allowed to fuck me, all the while you, who have always been my side, have gone unnoticed. How wrong I have been. I am yours mijo. Please take what is rightfully yours. Take your mother."
Without hesitation my mouth worked down her neck. She unbuttoned my shirt and belt, and before long I lay on top of my mother completely naked. I held her arms over her head exposing her hairy pits. She panted beneath me, and clinched her eyes as our bushes rubbed against each other in my cock's attempt to enter her pussy.
She widened her mouth and let out a soft gasp, as the tip of my cock finally penetrated her.
"Oh God mijo, yes, uhmmmmm give me more, fuck me mijo, fuck your mami," she moaned to me.
As I dug deeper into her, and seeing her eyes closed and her mouth open and panting, my brain recollected all the times it had seen her in this position. So many times I had seen her used and abused, man after man, and now it was me. Her own son, fucking her.
"Mami, tell me your mine," I yelped. "Tell me, you'll never be by another man's side."
"Yes mijo, I am yours. I am your slut now, to use and abuse," she replied right before I stabbed deep into her, penetrating my entire cock inside her.
Once inside her I pumped deep and hard inside her, making her water balloon tits bounce wildly, like I first saw with Mr. Rivera. Her cries, and moans of pleasure reminded me of her gangbang, so I pulled her legs over my shoulders and stabbed deeper into the bottom of her pussy.
"You're my fucking slut now mami," I commanded. "I am taking care of you now, and this pussy belongs to me.
Looking at her make-up smeared face, like a hooker, I conjured up images of my mother with Mr. Smith. Slowly I began flipping my mother over on to her stomach as my cock was still inserted deep inside her. After finally getting her on her stomach I pulled out and worked my tongue on her asshole. I got my mother's asshole nice and wet, and even tongue fucked it, in preparation of my cock.
"Ay, yes mijo, stick it in my ass. Stick it in mami's ass."
Her ass felt tight around my cock, not being used as much as her pussy. She shrieked at first, but I took no mercy on her, as I knew that she had plenty of practice in the last past year. I finally pulled her black hair back towards me, bending her head and torso back towards me as I planted my cock deeper into her thick, tight ass.
Before long I began ramming my mother's ass steadily and faster, still pulling her hair back, and causing her tits to flop beneath her like two giant sized water balloons.
"Ay mami, you are such a slut, but now you are my slut. I am the man that is taking care of you now, and I am going to take my payment every night, like I should have been.
At that point I was ready to blow my load deep inside her. But I had not received the oral pleasure that I witnessed Mr. Rivera receive on our trip to America. I instructed my mother to turn around. Like a professional whore, she instinctively knew what I wanted and as she came around her mouth quickly wrapped around my cock. I grabbed a handful of black curly hair, and controlled the speed and frequency of her bobbing head.
I remember her looking up at me, as my cock stuffed her mouth. Seeing my mother on the bed on all fours, with my cock inside her mouth, and the fact that I had rescued her from all those other men, only to then be used and abused by her own son, quickly caused me to erupt.
"Mami, you're making me cum," I warned her.
At that time she pulled me towards her still keeping my cock in her mouth, until she was lying down, and I was on top of her chest with my cock wrapped in her tongue.
"Oh, God mami, you fuckan slut, aaahhhhhhhhhh."
I pumped loads of cum into her mouth, before she pulled it out of her mouth and directed it all over her face. She then wiped her son's cum all over her face.
"Mijo, you're the best fuck I have ever had. And the greatest son any mother could ask for," she said as I collapsed and returned my head to her chest.
Before I succumbed to my sleep I stayed up for a while. I thought about what I had done. Had I just put my name on that long list of men who had taken advantage of my mother? Or had I finally taken back what was rightfully mine and rescued her like I wanted to do so many times. I looked up at her cum filled face as she slept, and assured myself that my mother and I were meant to be. It was just my mother and I, and being in a different country no one would ever know we were mother and son. I knew our lives were definitely and finally looking promising.
That was yesterday and now I am waiting for her to return from the grocery store. I don't know what the future holds for my mother and I, but I know it will be filled with a lot of hot sex every chance I get. And now that we are in America, I need to show my mother the American way. I think I will start by shaving her underarms, and her cunt.