wiped my finger through the layer of dust that had accumulated on the desk in my father's office. He had only passed away a couple of weeks prior, but nobody had entered the room - which he had once dubbed his "man cave" - since his passing. After the funeral, and well after Mom had come to terms with his absence around the house, we had agreed that it was time to move on.
I missed him terribly, but I knew that Mom did, too. I'd volunteered to help her clean out some of his stuff in order to preserve her sanity. We had planned to have a yard sale that weekend, which had given us a couple of days to gather everything of value and try to recoup some of the daunting funeral costs. I'd originally told her that I would clean out the attic first, but had changed my mind after she'd left to run some errands.
I looked around the room with my hands stuffed in my pockets. I was too afraid to touch anything, worried that I would disrupt whatever oddly serene balance the room had settled into. Dad's passing had been abrupt, and his office had been left as a snapshot of the past that, if I did not go rummaging through, would remain exactly as he had left it.
I sighed and pulled my hands from my pockets. "Sorry, Dad."
There was something formidable about Dad's office that took me back to when I was a little kid, snooping around for birthday presents that I hoped he had hidden somewhere obvious enough for a ten-year-old to find them.
I chose a large, metal filing cabinet as my first target. It seemed as good a place as any. I was only mildly surprised when my search uncovered just about everything but files. The contents ranged from sports memorabilia to the birthday cards I had made him as a child, but it was what I found in the bottom drawer that interested me the most.
Tucked away underneath a musty, wooden cigar box -- the fragrance of which made me feel like he was still in the room with me -- was a brown, leather-bound CD storage book. The extensive fraying around the outside told me that Dad has used it often, but I could not recall ever seeing it in his hands. None of the discs had identifying information on them, so as far as I knew they could have all been pirated movies from a bygone era.
Next to the book was an old camcorder that was similarly unfamiliar to me. I had never seen him use it, so I had no idea what kinds of things he had used it to record.
What the hell is on this thing? I wondered.
I felt as though I had to see what was on it before I put it up for sale. Even if it did not work, I thought the memory card might have contained something to reminisce over. I set it aside so that it would not accidently up in the "for sale" pile that continued to grow as I scoured the rest of the room for things to sell.
The camera left my mind as quickly as it had entered it, and I did not think about it again until a few hours later when I was moving some other valuable items to my bedroom. Once I had placed everything in an orderly fashion around my room, I remembered why I had rescued the archaic CD book to begin with.
I grabbed the book and sat down at my desk. Since there were no names to differentiate the CDs, I was not picky about which one to first pop into my computer. I opened to a random page and fished one of the flashy circles out of its plastic casing, then slotted it into the CD player.
Maybe I should grab some popcorn for this, I thought excitedly, hoping I had stumbled across something amazing.
The video began with Mom, dressed in what I will conservatively describe as provocative lingerie; she is still my Mom, even after everything. If someone else were to describe it as "slutty," well... if the electrifying baby-blue garment barely fits.
The way she was posed on the bed - knees up to her chest and her large, drooping breasts separated from each other by her legs - did not compute at first. It was entirely at odds with all of my memories of the warm, nurturing woman who had raised me from birth.
"You ready, Charlotte?" my father's voice asked from behind the camera.
Mom gave him a smile of genuine delight. "Ready!"
My heart leapt into my chest with such force that it pulled my stomach along with it, making me feel in an instant as though I were going to pass out from the sudden rush of adrenaline. I knew that I was looking at something extremely private, but there was something so alluring about Mom that I could not take my eyes off of her.
"Hands and knees, please," Dad instructed in time with a slow zoom.
Without a moment's hesitation, Mom rolled onto her side and propped herself up on her knees, then stuck her ass out like she were in heat and waiting to be mounted.
I sucked in a sharp breath, fearful that time would begin to move again once I exhaled. The tiny handful of seconds that it took Mom to get into position slowed to a crawl, affording me a physics-defying opportunity to soak in every hint of her nudity... which, I'm somewhat ashamed to say, I did eagerly.
While she had been sitting down, her legs had acted as a barrier that had shielded anything behind them from view. In her new position, my brief consideration of what underwear she might have been wearing was suddenly answered in one word: none.
There was a large, circular opening in the lingerie around Mom's butt that, once she had bent over, left nothing to the imagination. The cut-out section of her missing panties rendered her plump, wobbling bottom completely bare, and the framing fabric was so tight against her chubby cheeks that it dug into them.
The crease of her pussy, with a fluffy crown of dark brown hair, was highlighted in such breathtaking definition that I thought it might leap off of the screen to nip my nose. Nevertheless, her mere near-nudity was not the most exciting thing on screen.
There was no mistaking the fact that, lodged between her fat butt-pillows, there was a bright pink chunk of plastic in the shape of a heart directly where her asshole should have been. The heart squirmed in place, slowly dancing in front of my eyes as Mom repeatedly clenched up to tighten and loosen the snug pocket.
She peeked over her shoulder for a second and blew a kiss to the camera. "When do I push?"
"Whenever you're ready, dear," Dad commanded.
Mom buried her head in the mattress and, once steady, put both of her hands on either side of her globular ass cheeks. She dug in hard enough for the tips of her fingers to turn white, making long stretch marks in her skin as she slowly pried apart the twin mounds of dough.
Each time I thought that she had reached her limit, she widened another inch, as if eager to prove the extent of her stretchiness. She did not stop spreading until the distinctive pink, wrinkled edges of her asshole peeked out from around the width of the plug. The puckered star looked like chewed bubble gum stuck under a heart-shaped shoe, but had already proven itself twice as pliable.
Mom gave an ugly groan at the same time that the plug, whose size was still a mystery, began to creep towards the camera. It was a slow ejection, as though the walls of the cozy burrow were clinging to it with such desperation that her muscles were struggling to push it out. I thought that a hand would have done a better job, but it would have ruined all the magic of watching her - the kind, compassionate woman who had raised me - debase herself by pushing a hunk of heated metal out of her guts.
She curled her toes into fishhooks, pressing their bottoms to the pads of her feet as she bore down with all her might. In between her labored breathing, she asked, "Is... it... coming... out?"
"Let me see. Keep it there, Char."
Mom crossed her feet over each other and whimpered, "O-okay!"
Dad walked a couple of steps towards her so that her entire bottom took up the camera frame. There was not a single pixel of the screen that was not dedicated to display Mom's plugged butthole in all of its raw, juicy detail.
Her strained whinging was barely audible with her face in the sheets, but there was no doubt in my mind that she was fighting tooth and nail to keep the large metal bulb from sinking back into her strained butthole.
"Why did you have to pick such a big one?" she grumbled.
Dad extended his left hand and patted her ass cheek a few times, which sent some sizable ripples spread through her skin. "Because you like it so much."
Mom wagged her tail back and forth, her chipper tone hinting at the gleeful smile that was surely plastered across her face. "Shut uuuuup!"
There was a telltale playfulness in her tone that made it clear she was, contrary to my initial assumption, genuinely enjoying the ordeal. The pain, the pleasure, the submission, and whatever else came with it seemed to delight her like nothing I had ever seen.
After a few seconds of appreciation, wherein Dad captured various angles of Mom in her compromised position, he finally told her, "You can push now."
She released a pent up breath and relaxed her body as she sucked in another. She buckled down, her body going rigid once more as she prepared to expel the plug.
"Hhmmmmppff!" Mom grunted in an unladylike manner.
The rim of her asshole became bloated as it oozed around the sides of the plug. She kicked her feet against the bed. "God! F-fuck!"
"Just a little more. You're so close!"
Dad's encouragement must have given her the boost she needed, as her next attempt finally dislodged the plug from her bum. It broke the vacuum seal with a slimy pop and tumbled onto the mattress, leaving behind a dark stain where the lube - plenty of which had begun to drool out of the then-gaping socket it had vacated - soaked into the sheets.
I had seen hardcore pornography in my life before that, but none of it compared to the magnificent visual of my mother subjecting her asshole to such debilitating punishment. All she had done was simply push out a plug, yet the brutal aftermath of her work implied that she had been stuffing the poor, bludgeoned hole long before the recording had started.
The enflamed donut, its slackened rim bulging from abuse, seized as though it were breathing, gasping for air once its mouth had finally been unsealed. The ritualistic clenching from earlier in the video returned, although that time - with nothing to block the view - I could see deep into the ravaged den to bear witness to its red, fleshy walls collapsing on themselves each time she tightened up. No matter how hard she squeezed, she could not manage to get the sides of the wet, gaping sinkhole to touch.
I thought about dribbling saliva into those depths, which were still glistening with the remnants of the lube that soaked her insides. I imagined that the glob of spit would have touched the bottom before it ever touched the sides.
Mom's body decompressed, the stiff statue she'd been not so much crumbling as melting and deflating. She soon resembled a cage fighter that had lost her last match. Her arms and legs were limp and her body was slumped against the bed as she breathed a sigh of relief. Her deep, guttural groans were not those of pain, but instead told of the satisfaction she seemed to feel for having done what was asked of her.
"That's my girl!" Dad cheered. "Ready for round two?"
Before Mom could respond, the video ended and the screen went black.
My reflection blinked back at me. I hardly recognized the look of astonishment on my face, and could not recall a time in my life where my heart had beaten as fast as it was at that moment.
"Fuck," I sighed solemnly.
I looked down, but I did not need to. I could tell without looking that my dick was harder than it had ever been in my life. It was hard to wrestle with the fact that my mother had elicited that visceral reaction. I was confused about the things I was thinking, but my body was not. It knew exactly what, and whom, it wanted.
As though summoned by the yearning in my heart, the garage door opened, then closed, followed by a pair of tiny, extremely familiar footsteps pitter-pattering into the kitchen-- directly below my bedroom.
I would have gladly spent another hour poring through those digital annals, but Mom's unannounced arrival had made that a supremely risky proposition.
I was not even sure if I would have been able to bring myself to masturbate to it, but every little piece of me was desperate to watch another video. I do not know if I would have used the word "obsessed" at the time, but in hindsight, that's what I was.
"Dominic?" she called to me. "I'm home, honey! How's the cleaning?"
I knew she would come looking if I stayed silent. I tucked my dick into my waistband and made sure it was snug against my stomach, then shut off my computer. I did not feel safe leaving my room until I'd hidden the CD book under my bed.
Mom had warmed up some leftover soup for us to have for lunch, and by the time I got downstairs she was already serving it into bowls.
I was starstruck, much the same as my mother would have been had she stumbled upon Brad Pitt serving lunch in her kitchen. I tried not to ogle her, but it was near impossible after the footage I had seen.
"H-hey, Mom," I stammered nervously.
"Good afternoon, sweet pea," she sang in the most beautiful cadence that had ever blessed my ears. "Didja miss me?"
"Yes!" I yelped before realizing that my volume was completely out of place in the quiet kitchen.
Mom was taken aback by my sudden outburst, but laughed it off anyway. "Jeez, honey. I missed you, too! I was gone for a whole hour. I don't know how you survived without me."
It sure didn't feel like a whole hour! I screamed internally, wishing I had been given more time to consume her content.
We sat down to eat, which, for a time remained a relatively sedate ordeal - but an ordeal for me nonetheless. Then Mom started getting nosy.
"How did the search go?" she asked.
I almost choked on my soup. "Uh, good! Good, for sure. I started in Dad's office today."
Mom froze mid-bite, then forced a fake smile onto her face. "Oh, how fun! I thought you were tackling the attic today. I was going to clean out the office by myself, though. Remember we talked about that?"
I would not have normally been suspicious of her, but a lot had changed. Anxiety trickled in, making my blood run cold as a fiendish idea crossed my mind. "Is that okay? You're not trying to hide anything from me, are you?"
That time, it was her turn to choke on her soup. "No! There's nothing like that in there. It's fine. Don't worry about it. It's fine!"
I shrugged casually, but knew she was backed into a corner. "If you say so. I can probably finish the office today and move into the attic tomorrow."
"No!" she cried out. "No, it's fine. I will finish up your dad's office tomorrow."
"As long as you're not bummed out. Everything is ass backwards in there, but I will butt out if you want me to." I knew I was being incredibly bold by making such obvious innuendos, but her ability to call me out successfully rested on her admitting that the videos existed.
If she caught my drift, she did not let on, but I nevertheless got the sense that she was biting her tongue while trying to figure out a way to save face. One reason was that she couldn't take yes - even a very coy, smarmy yes - for an answer. Atop her insistence, she added some lame excuse about how the dust in the attic would make her sneeze.
I spent the rest of the afternoon tending to the attic, and it genuinely felt like a small eternity. That kind of work would have made time stretch out in the worst possible way regardless, but a terrible temptation was taunting me from underneath my bed, and my memories of what I'd seen provided no solace -- only further torment.
Mom's asshole was all I could think about as I reluctantly organized a lifetime's worth of stowed-away junk. I had seen her dolled up in lingerie - and gotten a clear view of her pussy, too - but the only thing on my mind was the raw, gaping spectacle that I already feared had fundamentally altered my psyche.
I caught myself spying on her almost a dozen times throughout the day whenever I would haul items from the attic to the garage, which I did so with greater frequency than I needed to in the hopes that I would catch a glimpse. Of her. Whether she was bending over to pick something up, or stretching to grab something off a high shelf, my eyes would be instantly glued to her backside. It was the first time in my life that I had ever seen her as a sexual being, and I knew within an hour of my compulsive leering that the change was irreversible.
I tried to focus on boxing up some things of Dad's that I thought might sell, but it was a half-hearted attempt. I knew that I should be feeling sad as I rooted through memories of him, or guilty that I was lusting so greatly for his wife, but none of those feelings held a candle to the way my heart raced when I pictured Mom pushing out that plug.
It was my deepest fascination, and no matter how hard I tried, I could not rid my head of the glorious, torturous images. After about an hour of trying to distract myself with packing, I gave up entirely. I knew I had to watch more of those videos.
I also knew that Mom would come looking for me if she did not hear me moving around in the attic, so I waited until I heard her go into the bathroom to make a mad dash to my bedroom. There was no way of watching the CDs in the attic, so I had to settle for whatever had been stored on the memory card that Dad had left in the camera.
I scurried back to my cave with my treasure and powered it on. There was still half a bar of battery left in it, giving me ample time to pore through the footage at my leisure.
I made sure to walk in circles and kick around the occasional empty box so that it sounded as though I were working hard. In reality, I spent the next several hours analyzing every frame of my mother's naked body that I could find. It should go without saying that time went from crawling to speeding by. Just when you need an eternity, hours turn into minutes.
I had expected there to be a wide variety of lecherous content hidden on the device, but that was not the case. In fact, in nearly every single video -- with only a few kinky exceptions - Mom's asshole was the star. Even the ones that did not solely focus on her bum - such as one that I really liked wherein she had been hogtied on the bedroom floor - prominently featured the illustrious hole.
I guess Dad was as much of a freak for anal as I am! I thought with an inward chuckle.
I could not bring myself to actually touch my dick, and it definitely tried to punish me for that restraint. I was tremendously hard at first, but after ignoring the erection for long enough it finally went away. The urge was still there, but I did not want to compound the rampant guilt that I felt every time I opened a new video.
I would have stayed up in the attic until the sun rose again the following morning, but fate had other plans. I was so enthralled by the videos that I did not notice when the battery light began to flash red, but I certainly noticed when it cut out in the middle of a spicy part that saw the camera approaching Mom's red, gaping asshole with a can of whipped cream aimed directly at the center.
"Fuck!" I exclaimed angrily. "Dammit. That was gonna be good, too."
I reluctantly dragged myself out of the attic and tucked the camera under my shirt. I carefully peeked around every corner on the way to my bedroom, but saw no sign of her.
I made it back and congratulated myself on the successful stealth mission. Since the camera was nothing more than a hunk of plastic and glass without a battery, I plugged it into the outlet near my desk and sat it on the floor next to my desk so that it would be out of sight.knew that there was plenty of footage hidden on the CDs, but I was already formulating a plan to spend the following day tucked away in the attic with the camera again. For that, the camera would need a full battery.
I had some school work to finish, so I busied myself with an essay that felt ultimately pointless compared to what weighed on my mind. I wondered if I was a bad son -- or worse, a bad person -- for obsessing over Mom's ass.
I tried in vain to dive into the work for about half an hour, to no avail. I was just about to throw in the towel when Mom knocked on my door. Her arrival had not been preceded by her recognizable footsteps trotting down the hall, so it made me jump in my seat.
"C-come in!" I squeaked.
Mom poked her head into the room and smiled at me. "Hey, sweet pea. How's the homework coming?"
"Oh, you know. It's coming."
She squinted her eyes, but maintained the warm grin across her face. "Uh-huh. Sure, sure. Can I come in for a second?"
A little voice in the back of my head warned me of danger, but I ignored it. "Yeah, sure. What's up?"
Mom entered my room and closed the door behind her. It was wholly unnecessary since we were the only two people in the house, but I recognized it as a holdover from when she would come for a private chat with me while Dad had still been with us.
She sat on the bed and rested her hands on her thighs. She squirmed in place, seemingly unsure of where to start. Her visits were never without purpose, so I knew that something was on her mind.
"Honey," she began, "did you happen to find anything today? Anything at all that we could put up for sale this weekend?"
"Nope!" I answered far too quickly for it to be credible, but with no proof, she could not challenge me.
She chewed the inside of her cheek. "Right, okay. It's just that... you said you started in the office, right?"
"Yeah."
"And you didn't find anything in there that we could sell?"
I pretended to think about it for a second. "I mean, I did make a pile of stuff that looked worthwhile. But then I switched to the attic, remember?"
She nodded along, but looked unconvinced. "Mmhmm. I know you did."
I felt a sliver of panic when I realized how close I was to getting caught, and without thinking twice I began to wheel my desk chair towards the charging camera so that I could cover it with my foot.
Something on the floor - which, upon reflection, was likely the blinking green light on the camera that indicated a full charge - caught her attention. The color drained from her face, betraying the terror that she truly felt.
She pointed to the camera, her smile a façade that I saw straight through. "Whatcha got there?"
I tried to play it off as common forgetfulness. "Oh? Oh! Oh, that. Yeah, I guess I found that, but I don't think it even works anymore."
It was clear that Mom wanted to be absolutely sure of what I had actually seen before she got upset. Less clear was how willing she'd be to believe the unbelievable: that my recklessly stupid remarks earlier in the day had been pure coincidence, and that I hadn't actually seen any of the incredibly vast archive of footage that my father had assembled-- almost all of which involved spreading, stuffing, stretching, and fucking her asshole.
She gulped nervously. "Looks expensive. Maybe we should sell it? Here, I'll put it with the other stuff."
She made for the camera, but I swiftly snatched it off of the floor and cradled it against my chest like a newborn baby. When I looked up at Mom, still shielding the camera from her grasp, I knew that she knew that I knew. The mask had dropped had completely. All that was left was horror. Her son had seen; her son knew.
She got up off of the bed and stepped towards me with her hand outstretched. "Dominic, I think you should give me the camera."
I did not have many moves left to make, yet I still made the decision to go with a stupendously bone-headed response. "No."
She recoiled a little, then put her hands on her hips. It was a scolding position that I had seen many times in my youth, just never while in possession of a totem that could turn the tides in my favor.
"Dom," she said, her voice softening. "Please give me the camera."
My mind raced to make up a good excuse. "There might be some videos with Dad on there! Like, childhood memories from when I was growing up."
Mom gritted her teeth. "There aren't."
I realized that I was out of good options. I knew there were still bad ones - "bad" as in "evil." It wasn't really blackmail - not at first - but there's no sense lying about it now. That's where it was headed. That was what was in my heart.
"But... there are videos on here, right?"
Fear forced her furrowed brow to unstitch itself. "Did you watch them?"
A deer in oncoming traffic would have had a faster reaction time than me, and it might even have been a better liar. "I... um... no?"
Mom did not buy my poor performance for a single second, and had already begun to defensively hug her shoulders before I had finished my incredibly lazy fib. "Oh, God," she whimpered quietly. "W-what did you see?"
The jig was up, and the sincere vulnerability plastered across Mom's face convinced me to be honest with her. "I... I saw everything. I'm sorry, Mom."
She sniffled and pinched the bridge of her nose with one hand. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have- wait, what do you mean 'everything?' How much did you watch?"
"Well... the camera needed recharging for a reason."
Her eyes were wide and unblinking. "What? So, you watched it until the battery died? Jesus Christ! I can't believe you watched more than a minute! How many was it, huh? Ten? Twenty? Thirty?"
My stomach sank. "It would be more accurate to measure it by the hour."
Her enraged shock turned into sincere disbelief. The color drained from her face and her eyes grew hollow. "You watched for hours, Dom? Why? I know what's on that camera. If you've seen one video, you've seen them all!"
"I don't know, Mom!" I cried, and it was even a halfway honest response. "I just... couldn't stop."
She rolled her eyes with a heavy sigh, but I felt some of her fury dissipate. "Well, now you sound just like your father."
I wanted to capitalize on the scant relief she appeared to be feeling, but could not think of anything witty to say. "I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the... like, anal-loving tree?"
Perhaps it was the stupidity of my attempted joke that made her laugh out of sheer pity. "God, honey. That is so, so dumb." She said it with a smile, though. I clung to that as a faint hope that she wouldn't outright disown me. Then the smile faded, replaced by something familiar - normal, even, considering the circumstances. "You know, he probably would have laughed at that, too."
It was awful of me to be so focused on my own neck and how it might be spared, but I was. It was even more awful to be entertaining thoughts of where else our conversation might lead... but I was.
"I'm sorry, Mom," I said. "I should have stopped watching once I realized it was you."
"But you didn't. Most boys wouldn't want to see that side of their mom. Didn't it bother you?"
It was a good point, and it did make me feel guilty. Somewhere deep down, though, I knew it that that guilt wasn't going to be enough to stop me from getting turned on all over again - by the memories of what I'd seen, if nothing else.
"I guess it was weird at first," I said, "but after the first couple of videos--"
"Stop, stop!" Mom winced and looked away, then put her hands in the air like she was surrendering to a police officer. "I don't even want to know which ones you watched. This is so embarrassing!"
"We don't have to talk about it."
"No," she said definitively. "I want to know the truth. Did you... I mean, did you like that it was my bum?"
I hung my head. "I guess so, yeah. It made it-- uh, well..."
"Sexier?" she offered, to which I could only nod with a crown of shame resting atop my head. "Wow, sweet pea. Freud would have skipped the couch session altogether and just paraded you around the market square."
I cringed. "Gee, thanks, Mom. Is there any chance we can stop talking about this now?"
Mom tilted her head to the side with a comforting smile. "Of course, honey -- but I'm not leaving without that video camera -- or the CD book."
Once she revealed she knew about Dad's entire trove, I accepted defeat. I had not downloaded any of the videos to my computer, so I knew that once I handed everything off, it would be gone forever.
As disappointed as I was to know that all of that footage was to be erased, I knew that it was for the best. With a heavy heart, I handed her the camera, and then the digital trove of depravity I had hidden under my bed.
She cleared her throat, her arms encumbered by hundreds of gigabytes of self-incriminating pornography. "Thank you, honey."
"I'm sorry, Mom. I really am. I don't know what came over me."
She scoffed, tightly clutching the CD book against her bosom. "I sure do! Your father was the same way. I've never seen a man go as crazy as he did for-- well, you know. I didn't know you shared the same... interest?"
I nodded solemnly. "You can just use the word 'obsession.' It's fine. I deserve it."
She raised her eyebrows in disbelief. "Wow. Now you really sound like him. He used to use that exact word, and I never understood it."
I shrugged. "Guess it's just a guy thing."
"Like father, like son," she said.
I believed that her intent was to lessen the blow, but all it did was make me jealous of my father for having found the perfect woman to satiate his kink. I had no dating prospects on the horizon, and thus felt particularly hopeless about achieving the same life for myself.
Mom wished me goodnight and then disappeared down the hall, her footsteps getting faster as she neared her room before I heard her slam her door shut.
Well, I guess that's over and done with. Good job, you big perv!
I went to bed hoping that, at the very least, I had not irrevocably damaged my relationship with Mom. In my wildest dreams, she would sleep on the conversation and decide to return the entire collection after hearing how infatuated I was with her remarkable talent.
I could not recall getting a lick of sleep throughout the entire night. If I'd had dreams, I could not remember them. From the second that I was conscious, however, I was stricken with vivid mental images of Mom's asshole - not dreams, but rather memories.
I knew right away that I was in for a rather difficult day.
When I pulled out my phone to check the time, I was astounded to find that it was already ten, which was much later than Mom would usually allow me to sleep in without barging into my room to scold me for wasting such a beautiful day.
I guess I'm not the only one feeling a bit awkward after last night, I thought with a sad sigh. She couldn't even bring herself to see my face this morning!
I got dressed in solemn silence; I did not even play music on my phone in the background. I knew that I would have to accept whatever fallout awaited. That harrowing reality made me wish to escape into an even deeper and darker hole. Even with the blinds sealed shut, my bedroom wasn't nearly far enough away from the ultimate reminder of my shame.
I threw on whatever t-shirt was at the top of the clean but unfolded pile of laundry in my hamper, then fished out a pair of grey sweatpants. I knew that I wanted to be comfortable when I faced what I assumed would be the incredibly uncomfortable situation waiting for me downstairs.
With a deep breath to relax my nerves, I opened the door to my bedroom. I was so certain of the ensuing awkwardness, and so preoccupied with how I would approach it, that I did not bother to look where I was stepping as I exited my room. Before my foot landed on the floor, I readjusted my footing and narrowly avoided stomping on the large, brown CD book that sat in front of my door.
My mind raced. What is this doing here? Did Mom forget to take it with her? How could she forget that, but not the camera? Did she put the book here on purpose? Why would she do that?
I didn't have a good answer to a single one of the questions that popped into my head, but I knew someone who would.
I picked up the CD book and made for the stairs, which I took three at a time so I could reach the bottom faster. I almost rolled my ankle halfway down, but even that did not slow me down. I was a bloodhound sniffing out her location, which was made easy by the scent of vanilla-blueberry tea - her favorite - wafting out of the kitchen.
I entered the room to see steam still rolling out of the kettle on the stove, and Mom seated at the kitchen table a few feet away from it. Similar coils of heated vapor rose from her signature mug, which read "#1 Mommy <3." It had been true when I'd made it for her in third grade, and remained so to that very morning.
The thick, ruby-red rims of her glasses were barely visible over the top of the book in which her nose was buried.
I cleared my throat to get her attention, but she did not so much as glance at me. "Good morning, sweet pea. How did you sleep?"
I waved the CD book in the air. "What is this?"
She lowered the book and peered at me over the top of her glasses, but did not say a word.
"Sorry, Mom" I said. "Good morning, I mean. Now, what is this doing outside my door?"
She looked back to her book, where I saw her eyes dart around for a second before her belated reply. "I put it there."
"Why?"
"For you."
I huffed through my nose. "But why, Mom?"
For the second time in our conversation, she looked at me with her eyes half-hidden by the book of puzzles. "I thought you might want it."
The exchange was getting us nowhere, so I cut to the chase. "Of course I want it! I wanted it last night, but you took it from me. What changed your mind?"
She performed a deep, dramatic sigh, closed the book, then patted the chair next to her. "Come here, honey."
I was skittish, as I imagined anyone else would have been, but I sat down next to her anyway, set down the CD book, and folded my hands.
Her demeanor was strangely calm, as though she had already processed the previous day's traumatic events over the course of one evening. There were only a few words filled out in her crossword, however, so I suspected that she was more preoccupied than she was letting on. It was past ten in the morning. It normally would have been finished well before nine.
Mom turned in her chair so that her body was facing me. "I spent a lot of time thinking last night, after you'd gone to bed."
"Me too," I confessed. "What did you think about?"
She chewed on the inside of her cheek, her mouth shoved off to the side. It was an odd look, but I found it extremely adorable -- mostly due to the way it scrunched up her cute button-nose.
"Well," she began, "I realized that, as weird as it was, seeing those video made you happy."
"Mom, I--"
She placed one of her hands on top of mine on the table. "Let me finish, please. When your dad was alive, nothing used to make me feel as happy as giving him that happiness. It was, as he described it, 'a satisfaction like no other.' When you use the word obsession last night, it reminded me of him, and how he used to talk about my butt."
I gulped. "And?"
She tilted her head to the side as she wrestled with how to answer me. "And... I don't know. I guess that I hated seeing how disappointed you were when I found the camera." Her eyes flicked back and forth. "Maybe I just hate seeing you sad. Maybe I miss having somebody looking at me like that."
My mouth was hanging wide open, my eyes laser focused on even the smallest change in her body language. "Like what?"
She pointed at me with her first finger and squinted one eye to draw attention to how I had been staring at her. "Like that, honey. It was strange at first, but as I was lying in bed, I guess I kind of came to terms with it. I like knowing that I can turn a man on; every woman does -- and at my age, that goes double when it's a young man such as yourself."
The reality of her offer was so ludicrous that I felt as though could not take it at face value. "So... you want me to have the videos?"
"I do," she replied with a soft, toothless grin, "as long as you don't think it's weird to see that side of me."
I shook my head as vehemently as I could. "No, no. It's not that. I actually kind of like that it's you, Mom. You were a completely different person in those videos."
"Not completely different, honey. I'm still your mother, no matter how much of me you've seen. I don't mind you watching as long as you remember that."
I knew I had to be absolutely sure that she knew what she was signing up for. There was no point in continuing to beat around the bush -- not after she had displayed such vulnerability.
"Then you also don't mind that I'm probably going to jerk off while I watch them?"
The admission made her blush, but she did not get cold feet. "I-- yeah, I thought about that, too. I guess I'm okay with it. Hell, maybe once you get it out of your system you'll realize that it isn't all it's cracked up to be."
I laughed at the absurd notion. "And what if you're wrong?"
She sank her teeth into her lower lip and dragged her canine across it while she considered that possibility. "I'm not sure yet. Let me think about it." She pushed the book closer to me. "But for now, you can watch whatever you want. They're just videos, after all. If they make you that happy, then I don't want to be the one to ruin it."
I picked up the CD book. "Well, I'll be down in a bit."
Mom shot me a look of confusion. "Are you going to clean the attic already? I thought you would at least have breakfast first."
I grinned sheepishly and patted the book a couple of times. "Er, no. I was gonna..."
Her modest confusion was abruptly replaced by genuine surprise; she clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle the accompanying gasp. "Oh! Really? You mean, like, right now?"
"Unless there was something else you wanted to talk about?"
She seemed bewildered, mostly. Her face was nearly twitching - overloaded from all the emotions it was being told to express. "I-I guess not. It's a bit more sudden than I expected, that's all. Just... well, I hope you like them. Have fun, sweet pea."
It was an oddly sincere send-off considering what I planned to do, but authentic nonetheless. She really did sound like she hoped I enjoyed pleasuring myself while watching pornographic videos... of her.
I slunk out of the kitchen with the CD book close to my heart, but not as any kind of shield or defense. It was my new prized possession, and if a hail of bullets had come flying through window, I would have turned around and protected it with my very life.
I brought the holy relic to my room and set it gracefully on my desk. I could hardly believe I'd almost stepped on it earlier that morning. I shuddered to think of that other, terrible timeline.
I heard Mom climbing the stairs, and my heart sunk when I considered that she had changed her mind and was coming to retrieve the CDs before it was too late. Instead, her footsteps headed past my room and into her own, where she shut the door without another word.
She never gives up on the crossword. Why would she quit so abruptly? I don't deserve much credit for that fleeting moment of concern. The very next, I was wholly occupied with selecting a CD to watch on my computer.
popped one from the first page into my CD drive, then kicked off my pants.
It was strangely exciting to be watching the videos on such archaic technology. I felt that it was more private than the slew of pornography that was readily available to anybody with a smartphone. As far as I knew, I was only the third person who was going to watch what I was about to.
My dick was already starting to pulsate at the first frame, wherein my mother - wearing a lurid shade of red lipstick - blew a kiss to the camera, which I unthinkingly accepted as being directed towards me. From that point on, my brain was nothing but a pile of mush.
I do not recall how long I sat there for with my hand wrapped around my dick, for time quickly became illusory. I tried to stroke myself as slowly as I could in the hopes that I could fit just one more video in before I popped, but that was harder than expected.
Mom made it particularly difficult to stop myself from cumming by doing everything in her power to make each video more alluring than the one that had come before it. As she had said earlier, it was indeed a different side of her, yet somehow she also remained true to the woman who had raised me with such love.
She did things I had never seen her do before, but it was all born of a heart that wanted nothing more than to make others happy. I had never seen someone so eager to please -- to be of service -- in my entire life.
Based on Dad's reactions, she'd consistently done a damn good job. I even had to mute a couple of the videos so that his constant groaning would not distract me. That left me in a den of silence with only my mother's smiling face - or, far more often, gaping butthole - to focus on.
I bore witness to it all, carefully observing every clench, every new position, and each exploration into the cavernous depths of Mom's asshole. It seemed like she had said yes to everything.
No matter the vulgarity of any given video -- such as the first one wherein she had masturbated with a modestly sized dildo --I was always unprepared for the one that followed it. It seemed the intensity had been ramping up from the beginning, and after just a few exponentially-more-erotic videos, I knew I would not be able to last much longer.
The video that finally sent me over the edge was unlike any of the others I'd watched, though I imagined, and hoped, that if I were to dig further into the book there would be many more like it. I slowed my strokes to a crawl, my leg quivering as I fought my body's natural desire to cum. It was a strong urge, and it had been preceded by the visual of Mom's bottom being filled to the brim with a milk enema, which was something I had never seen before. I decided that I would not allow myself to finish without watching the finale, and so tried my best to hold on.
I watched Mom climb to her feet, her ass full with enough milk to start her own dairy farm, and then walk over to a coffee mug, which she then squatted overtop of.
The front of the mug read "#1 Mommy <3," and I realized that it was the exact same one that I had made her as a child -- and, to my bewilderment, the one that I had seen her drinking tea out of less than an hour earlier.
Mom treated it as nothing more than a receptacle for her to empty her milk-soaked bowels into. Her knees were bent so that she could get as close to the mug as possible, which left just enough room for the camera to get a good view. Even with her appearing to clench as tightly as she could, there were a few rebellious, white droplets that seeped out. They trickled between the bumpy folds that made up the exterior of the wrinkled ring, giving hint to the enormous amount of pressure that had built up inside of her guts.
"R-ready, honey?" she asked the cameraman with a soft whimper.
"Ready," he confirmed.
Mom pushed hard, her asshole distending outward until she had forced the concave hole into a fat, swollen donut. From its center she produced a long, unbroken stream of pearly liquid that landed in the mug with an audible splash.
She released a barbaric groan as an entire litre of milk came flooding out of her. The rim of the mug was quickly eclipsed as the waterline - or rather, the milkline - rose far beyond its limit, at which point the liquid began to run over the sides and form a large, bubbly puddle around the base.
I could not make it to the end of the video without cumming; my dick had gone into overdrive as soon as the cup had overflowed, and I, myself, was already a puddle by the time she was waving goodbye to the camera.
The entire front of my shirt was caked in so much cum that it made the fabric stick to my stomach. It was more than I had ever seen, and I had Mom to thank for it. I'd never been happier that I'd long since graduated to doing my own laundry. I didn't want to give her any new reasons to change her mind.
Nevertheless, there was a part of me that thought she would be happy to know that I had been so impressed with her work. That part of me even wanted to go and express as much to her. I felt as though I had just watched a breathtaking cinematic masterpiece and needed to tell someone -- especially its leading lady -- how deeply it had affected me.
Then again, a voice in my head whispered, you could watch a few more first.
I took no further convincing, and inserted another CD into the drive before I even bothered changing my shirt. My dick had begun to soften, but that process slowed when Mom's face reappeared on the screen.
Whatever magical power of arousal she possessed, I knew that I was well and truly in its thrall. It was only disrupted -- though not before bringing my dick back to its full rigidity -- by a knock on my door behind me.
I knew exactly who it was, as I always had, but still asked, "Who is it?"
Mom chuckled on the other side of the door. "Room service, sweet pea. Who else?"
I straightened up in my chair, but did not take my hand off of my cock. "Sorry, yeah. Hi, Mom."
"Hello, honey. Have you, um... finished up?"
"Yeah."
"Oh." Her tone was one of dejection. "Well, never mind then. I can come back."
I spun around in my chair to face the door. "No! No, Mom. You can come in. I started watching more, actually."
Her voice perked up. "Really? You liked them that much?"
"I loved them!"
"I'm glad." Then she paused for a second. I saw her feet shuffling under the door, indicating that she was nervously shifting her weight back and forth. "You're sure you didn't mind that it was me you were watching?"
"I'm sure."
There was a distinct uptick in her tone that sounded as though she were smiling at that answer. "Okay, good. Can I come in?"
I chortled, thinking the self-invitation had been a joke. "Um, I was kind of in the middle of something. I don't even have pants on!"
Her voice fluttered when she bluntly replied, "Me neither."
I became freakishly aware of each adrenaline-fueled heartbeat that followed her revelation. I could hear the bass thudding in my ears. It drowned out whatever she said next, and I had not even realized that she had spoken until she called to me.
"Honey? You still there?"
"W-what?"
"I said, 'Me neither,' so can I come please in?'"
I clenched my fist and dug my nails into my palm to try and stop my hand from jittering. "Wow. You-- well, I mean, sure. Yeah, you can come in."
"Are you suuuuure?" she sang as she slowly pushed the door open.
"Ye-ah!" I was so wound up that I did not even care about the voice crack undercutting my confidence.
I did not want to look like a complete pervert, which I knew was incredibly silly given the circumstances, but being caught with my cock out felt like a hat on a hat. She already knew why I had locked myself away in the darkness of my bedroom. I didn't think there was a need to also give her an eyeful.
I hurriedly grabbed a blanket off of my bed and threw it over my legs. It was not particularly heavy, so my dick made an extremely obvious tent in the cloth that I had to cover by folding my hands over it.
"Uh, come in, I guess," I grumbled.
Mom opened the door just enough to stick her head inside. "There he is."
She stepped inside and closed the door behind her. True to her word, she was not wearing pants that I could see. What I could not see was the rest of her, which was wrapped entirely in a pink, silk nightgown that ended just above her knees. A belt made of the same material was tied around her midsection to keep the loose garment from falling open. I had seen it many times before over the years, but it had never looked better on her.
Based on the comment about being bottomless, a little piece of me had expected her to enter completely nude. I knew that it made far more sense for her to simply be wearing a nightgown, but I was still disappointed that the woman from the screen - and of my dreams - had not materialized in her perfect form.
She leaned against the closed door with both of her hands behind her back. I could hear her fiddling anxiously with the knob as she took a deep breath. "So, you watched more than one, huh?"
I used a fake itch on the back of my head as an excuse to look away while I pretended to scratch it. "Uh, yeah. I guess I watched a couple."
She hummed. "That sounds like obsession, alright. Like father, like son!"
I looked at her, then realized that my dick was sticking upright, so I rushed to cover it again. "You're not mad? Or like, I don't know... something?"
Her eyes floated down to my crotch, but then drifted back up to me. "Why would I be mad or something? You did exactly what I wanted you to do."
"You wanted me to? But why?"
She shrugged so casually that one would have thought I had asked her about her plans for lunch. "I haven't had many opportunities to feel good about myself since he passed. I missed having someone think I'm... well, I'll just say it-- sexy!"
She pulled both hands out from behind her back, then crossed them in front of her chest in a way that looked suspiciously as though she were trying to give her large, heavy breasts a little boost. "You do think I'm sexy, right? I mean, I've all but flat out asked you, but I need to be sure."
I almost leapt on her to prove my point, but stifled the urge to jump out of my chair. "Fuck yes, Mom. I think you're the most incredible woman in the world."
Her beautiful smile stretched from ear to ear, putting two deep, shadowy dimples on each of her cheeks. "I thought so. I love you, sweet pea."
My throat was bone dry as I croaked out, "I love you too, Mom."
She cocked her head to the side, unintentionally doing a fantastic impersonation of a curious puppy. "Do you know just how much I love you, Dominic?"
The invocation of my full name made my balls tighten. "I think so."
She shook her head and took a step towards me. "No, honey. I don't think you do. I love you so much that I'm prepared, or at least--" She shook her head again and tightened the hug around her chest. "--I think I'm prepared to do something incredibly stupid -- something no mother is ever supposed to do for their son." She pursued her lips. "But..."
"But?"
Mom took another step towards me, and while doing so uncrossed her arms so that she could grab onto the knotted belt that kept her nightgown from opening up. "Can I show you something, honey?"
"Yes," I spat out as quickly as I could.
She tugged on the long string until the belt came undone and fell freely to her side. Without it tying the gown together, it looked like it could have been blown off of her by a gust of wind.
Mom placed her hands near her bosom and grabbed the nightgown as though she was about to rip it off in one go. Instead, she took her time parting the silk curtain, all the while intently studying my reaction.
The pink covering dropped to the floor in a crumpled heap. By casting it off, Mom had revealed the true nature of her visit without having to say another word.
She was clad in a spectacular blue lingerie bodysuit, with sheer stockings of the same shade. One feature, however, was quite familiar; a large section around her pussy had been cut out to invite prying eyes to gaze upon her womanhood. The wide window through which she was exposed encircled her entire pubic mound and revealed the triangular crown of brown fur that sat atop it.
It appeared to have been fiercely manicured. The shape was perfectly uniform, with the exception of a few wiry strands that, likely due to their length, curled off far beyond the others. Other than those few outliers, the border of the chocolate rug appeared to have been carefully shaven down to the skin to firmly define its triangular shape.
Did she do that for me? I wondered.
There was something I found profoundly sexy about a woman dressed in lingerie that did not even bother to cover her most sensual places. Even the bits that were covered, such as her breasts, were miles away from modest. I did not often see Mom wearing a low cut shirt, and so was surprised to see that the large cups containing her breasts - while technically a proper fit - struggled to do so properly. As she swayed in place, the loose piles of dough threatened to slosh over their edges - or at least that's how it appeared.
She flattened her hands against her tummy and pushed them downwards towards her pussy. "Do you like it?"
I was speechless. "Uh-huh."
That made her smile with unabashed glee. "Just wait until you see me from the back."
I pinched myself through the blanket. "Why?"
She pouted playfully. "You know why, goofball. So tell me, how do you want to see it?"
"Your ass?" I could not believe the ridiculous deal I was being offered.
She took a big step towards me, encroaching on my personal space. "My bum, yes. It's up to you how we do it."
The way she had stepped towards me felt intentionally geared to make me feel like a fragile young boy again, dwarfed in the shadow of her tall figure.
I wanted to move, but I felt glued to my chair. I knew I was being given the opportunity of a lifetime - another one, on the very same day! -- and I did not want to waste it, so I picked the classiest position I could think of. "On your hands and knees, maybe?" I suggested meekly.
Mom bent down far enough to make her tits - which appeared to be growing bigger by the second - dangle just inches away from my face, then kissed the top of my head. "I like that one best, too." She straightened herself up. "Just remember, if this is too weird, we can stop. Okay?"
"Uh-huh." Real words were once again beyond my ability, and that did not change when she turned around.
To my delight, there was an equally large window on the back of her outfit that left nothing to my imagination. The entirety of her large bottom was exposed through the opening in the lingerie, the edges of which appeared to be stretched to their limit to accommodate both of her humongous, swollen cheeks.
Mom started to walk towards the bed, rolling her hips so that her plump cushions would grind against each other with each step. "You know, I thought you'd at least wait until the sun went down before you watched them."
"Is that bad?"
She turned her head to the side so she could see me out of the corner of her eye. "No, but it meant I had to rush upstairs as soon as you left the kitchen."
"To get dressed?"
She planted her feet and turned her body so that she could get a good look at me. With a hand on her hip she asked, "How long do you think I was gone for? I did a lot more than that." With a soft purr, she turned back around and crawled onto the bed on her knees. "I had to get clean, too. Been a while since I did it by myself, but I remember how. And I had time to put this in!"
At last, Mom bent over and arched her back, folding her elbows, onto which she laid her head. The object in question was immediately obvious, as it was sandwiched between the exact same chubby cheeks that I had been staring at on my computer screen.
Nestled in the middle of those gigantic, white globes was, just as I had been hoping for, the handle of a large buttplug. It was in the shape of a bright red heart.
Dumbfounded and stricken with horniness, I asked, "Is that the one from the video?"
She giggled into the mattress, which muffled her laughter slightly. "I don't know which videos you watched! I have a lot of toys, honey, and a lot of the plugs look like hearts."
I almost face palmed out of embarrassment. "Right, my bad."
"Do you want to pull? Or do you want me to push?"
"Uh, both?"
She tittered under her breath. "Men really are all the same."
One could have taken it as a slight, but I actually felt good that I was reminding her of Dad. "We're easy to please."
"Lucky me! Do you want to get a bit closer to me? She won't bite unless you ask her to."
I chuckled awkwardly as I threw off the blanket covering my lap. "Doesn't even have any teeth."
Mom snorted like a happy piglet, her whole body shaking from spontaneous laughter. "Don't make me laugh! It feels weird to laugh with my butt plugged."
I crouched down to kneel at the edge of the bed so I would have a better view. "My bad."
She drew in a deep breath that she breathed out slowly through her nose. "Okay, I'm ready. Watching?"
I had not stopped watching for even a fraction of a second. I realized that my eyes were moist, but I did not know if it was due to the fact that I had forgotten to blink or if tears of joy were welling up, preparing to spill over.
"Watching," I confirmed with a racing pulse.
Mom appeared to be in no rush. She gave a quiet murmur, but it was barely audible over the sound of her juicy butthole squelching around the toy as she squeezed it out.
Its long, thin stem became visible as it was pushed out of its resting place, exposing the base of the fat bulb it was attached to. When she had pushed it out an inch, she reversed course and sucked it back inside until the stem was gone again. Then she did it again. By the second time it sunk back into her ass, I was completely hypnotized.
After she had grown comfortable moving the toy with her butt muscles a few more times, she challenged herself to push it out a little further. She delivered a hearty grunt that saw her birthing the shiny, metal egg until her asshole was stretched around the toy's widest circumference, but she did not eject it.
The red, puffy rim strangled the toy in a death grip, its edges clinging to the metal toy as it eased out of her. Her body did not appear to want to relinquish it.
Mom held the toy in place, as if to impress me by demonstrating how long she could stay stretched around its widest part. She did not even seem to struggle, and although it was not the largest toy I had seen go inside of her bum, I was still amazed that such a tiny-looking hole could perform such a feat.
With the plug hanging halfway out of her, I could not wait any longer to see the finale. "Can you push it out now?"
"Mm-hmm," she said. "Hold out your hands under my bum."
Mom adjusted the arch in her back so that it was as curved as she could make it, presenting her plugged asshole to me like I was to inspect every individual wrinkle around the puckered ring.
"Ready?" she asked.
"Ready."
She buckled down. "Catch, honey!"
Since most of the plug was already outside, it only took a tiny push for Mom to eject it, at which point she collapsed on the bed. "Been a while since I did that."
I could not believe how heavy it was when it landed in my hands. I rolled it around, analyzing it from every angle. I felt like I was having an out-of-body experience. It was genuinely surreal knowing that I was touching - cradling, even -- an object that had just been lodged inside of my mother's bowels.
closed my fingers around the metal bulb, its entire surface still aggressively radiating heat - her heat, one profoundly sexual step removed. My temple throbbed, my body unable to contain its palpable excitement to feel it steaming in my palm.
I began to salivate, finally ridding me of the dry mouth that I'd been plagued with since she had entered my room. "It's so hot, Mom."
She wagged her bottom back and forth. "So am I, on the inside. Wanna feel?"
I placed my middle finger against her opening, which still appeared relatively tight despite her best effort to convince me otherwise, and applied pressure until she accepted me inside.
The texture confounded me. It was like nothing I had ever felt before, and I could not comprehend how something as trivial as the inside of an asshole could feel so remarkable soft and smooth. I dragged my fingertip against one velvety wall. It glided along it, encountering no resistance other than the occasional convulsion-- though those hugs seemed designed as a greeting rather than a warning.
"Warm in there, huh?" she cooed. "You wanna use one more?"
"Can I?"
She shrugged. "Try it and find out."
I straightened my first finger alongside the middle one and eagerly pushed. Thankfully, she was so well lubricated that they easily sank inside until it looked like her asshole had chomped its toothless maw around them.
I had been less cautious with the added digit since she had engulfed the middle one so easily, but there was a distinct difference in her tightness once they were both inside. The double dose of fingers had exaggerated how intensely she was straining, and I could feel the burden I had put on the elastic hoop.
Mom clenched around my fingers rather powerfully, which made my knuckles grind together. "Ta-da!"
"Fuck," I muttered in wonder. "Now I see why the plug was so warm."
"Wanna put him back where he belongs?"
"God, yes." I knew I would have given my right arm for the privilege.
I curled my fingers slightly so that they would claw at her warm, slimy flesh as I dragged them out. I popped them out of her and watched as her modest-sized gape shrank in an instant. Fingers alone had not been enough to truly loosen her, but I was undeterred. I knew that, with a little effort, I could have made the tunnel twice as wide before it sealed itself shut.
"Sweet pea?" Mom called to me. "You okay back there?"
"Y-yeah," I stammered. "Just got a bit distracted."
"Hard to think when I'm making it wink like that, isn't it?"
My eyes widened. "You're doing that on purpose?"
"Duh! It doesn't just do this--" She treated me to a triumphant clench that shrank her asshole to the size of a pinpoint. "--on its own! Plug her, please."
Just as I was about to align the toy with her entrance, she said, "Wait! One second, honey."
I heard her make a spitting sound, which did not compute until she reached around and smeared a fat glob of saliva onto her asshole. She made sure to massage it in so that not a single wrinkle around the donut was neglected. Every individual fold glistened in the light from my desk lamp.
I held my breath while I watched the nail from her middle finger disappear into her butt, with its bulging rim so bloated that I could have chewed on it like it was made of pink saltwater taffy.
She pulled her finger out and straightened it to be parallel with her ring finger, both of which she then tapped against the puckered, saliva-coated halo to make a small squishing sound.
"Hmmph," she fussed as she prodded around. "Not enough. Can you help me?" She made a "V" with her fingers, flanking her asshole on either side. "Right there, please."
I gathered saliva at the front of my mouth, then spat it onto her with enough force to splatter her fingers as well. She, in turn, painted my contribution onto her butthole until it was again evenly coated. "Okay," she said, "I'm ready for him."
I had been too attached to the plug to let it go, and so mindlessly followed her command the instant she gave it. I placed it against her butthole and inserted the pointed tip, then gave a tiny shove that, in my mind, would have been barely enough to push it in.
To my surprise, the fat bulb quickly sank into her body as soon as the widest point had passed through. I did not truly push it into her; rather, it appeared to sink into the loosened pocket as though I had dropped it in quicksand.
"Wow," I said in amazement. "It just... slides in so easily."
She wagged her tail. "Thank you, honey. I'm pretty good at this. Wanna pull it out on your own this time?"
Drool trickled from the corner of my mouth. "Yeah, yeah."
I mistakenly thought that, since Mom had proven her asshole could handle any kind of treatment, I could get away with upping the ante. I did not tell her of my plan, and that could likely be attributed to me having reverted back to a state of childlike wonder that told me to play with my toys the way I always had: hard.
I pinched the base of the plug with two fingers. When I was sure that I had a good grip, I swiftly withdrew it from its sheath in one firm, unannounced tug.
Mom squealed and kicked her feet against the mattress as she wailed into it. "Ow! Ow! Not like that!"
Oh shit! I thought in a panic. What should I do? Would Mom do whenever I got hurt?
The answer to that question came to me as quickly as I followed through on it, which I did without spending half of a second to consider the line I would be crossing in doing so.
In accordance with every impulse my brain was screaming at me, I thrust my face forward to plunge my tongue between Mom's ass cheeks to soothe the wounded hole, and I did not stop until she was clenching it around the wiggling pink snake.
"Whoa!" Mom cried out. "O-oh, wow!"
With my tongue still planted in her bottom, I used both of my hands to pry her cheeks apart so I could dig a little deeper. I wanted to go in as far as I could, fearing that at any minute she would tell me to stop.
Mom summoned a deep, rumbling groan. "This was just supposed to be a show. I didn't-- oh! Right there, sweetheart! Keep going!"
I pulled my tongue out for just long enough to take a breath and say, "You didn't what?"
"Forget it!" she cried out.
I had some semblance of power, and it instantly went to my head. "No, no. I'm curious."
Mom groaned in annoyance and tried to push herself back onto my face. "I didn't think you'd want to shove your fucking tongue in my asshole! Happy?"
Very! I thought as I parted her cheeks and dove in for another taste.
I rummaged around inside the cozy compartment, probing the cushy padding with my tongue. I wished for one that was twice as long so I could get closer to the rich, muggy heat that wafted out of her deepest reaches. Even the plug, which had been piping hot when it had fallen into my hands, seemed lukewarm in comparison.
I slithered my tongue out of the boiling sinkhole and performed long, patient licks that stretched from the bridge of skin between her two holes all the way up to the divot below her tailbone. Each pass brought me dangerously close to her pussy, which I deduced the moment I tasted a flavour that was at once new and familiar.
It reminded me of other girls I had eaten out in the past, but there was a remarkable sweetness to Mom's nectar that made me want to sink my teeth into the ripe peach from which it dribbled.
As though she had read my mind, Mom piped up, "It's okay. You can lick it." It sounded as much like a request as it did permission, and I would not let her down by denying it.
I crouched down so that my face was level with her pussy, then stuck out my tongue so that it laid over my chin. With the red carpet rolled out, I dragged it through Mom's succulent folds like I was trying to memorize her signature flavour.
I placed my lips over my teeth and nibbled gingerly on the flabby wing as though I were trying to tenderize it through suction. The pink curtain was of such a delicate texture that I imagined it as butter melting on my tongue.
I sloppily made out with her pussy like a horny teenager who had gotten their hands on a woman for the first time. I expressed that hunger through sort-of-unconscious moans as my senses - touch, taste, and smell - were sincerely flooded.
Mashing my face into her pussy so messily had caused beads of tangy cunt honey to run down my chin. I did not care; I wanted to be marked with her scent.
I could not believe what was happening. I imagined that there were very few souls alive that knew how their mother's pussy tasted, and I felt like a god among men to have joined their ranks. I knew that her flavourful syrup, its tart bite undercut by a sweetness that danced on my tongue, would be a memory that I forever cherished.
"Put your tongue inside," Mom hissed urgently. "Just for a second, then you can put it back in my butt."
I found it endearing that she thought I needed the encouragement, but I was happy to let her think that she was still directing me.
I stiffened my tongue to a point and poked it against the narrow mouth of her birth canal, the same one I'd passed through after nine months of Mom having tended to my every need. I knew that I was my turn to repay her generosity, and I was prepared to do so with gusto.
I reached between her legs with both arms and then curled them upwards until my hands were on her ass, creating a locked loop around her body that rendered her pussy a wet, drooling feedbag. I didn't care to sugarcoat it by thinking of myself as a horse or a cow. I was a hog, and I was in heaven.
With the entrance to her molten center firmly affixed to my mouth, I thrust my tongue out to drive it home. She immediately clamped down, smothering it in a powerful hug that she surely stamped the imprint of my taste buds onto the supple surface of her walls.
"Just like that!" Mom yelped as she tried to close her thighs.
I held them apart with my arms, refusing to let her clench up and potentially push me away while my tongue was still trying to hit bottom. It was an impossible destination, but the journey was such a pleasurable one that I did not mind taking stops along the way to scrape my tongue against the slippery lining.
Mom's left leg began to quiver in a way that seemed beyond her control. I dug at the spot that had made her tremble, provoking a more furious shake that made her thigh rub vigorously against my ear.
"M-more, more," she begged. "Don't stop."
My tongue had grown sore, but her insistence gifted me a second wind. I doubled down, furrowing my brow in deep concentration as I fought against her thrashing.
My tongue carved deep grooves into the walls of its sodden prison, stirring about in her cunt as though its frantic flutters would churn her delicious juice into a frothy cream.
Just as I was opening my mouth to try and take a breath through the mushy face mask, she bucked her hips and made me bite down on my own tongue. Even the pain that followed was not enough to break my concentration. I knew I had a mission to complete, and the reward for doing so was tantalizing enough to push me through any trial.
"Oh my fuck, Dom!" she roared as her body grew rigid.
Mom's pussy convulsed wildly around my tongue, drenching my maw in a deluge of fragrant juice that hit the back of my throat. Her body lurched, but I held her down with an iron grip and refused to take another breath until she was done.
She crushed my skull with her thighs, pinning them to my ears so that I could hear hardly hear her high-pitched wailing as she came. I closed my eyes and submitted myself to the feverish combination of suffocation and claustrophobia. For someone that usually did not like small, enclosed spaces, I felt right at home wearing her thighs like a pair of pudgy ear muffs.
I lapped at the flowing fountain, greedily consuming its lavish outpouring. I wanted all of her, in whatever form she would give it to me. I had rarely been able to make my previous girlfriends orgasm -- especially not with such force -- so to have brought such incredible pleasure to my own mother was a gift unto itself.
Having the woman whom I respected more than anyone on the planet writhe against me like an animal gave me a feeling of unparalleled power. The knowledge that I could make her orgasm so strongly made me feel as though I could do anything.
That feeling persisted while I licked and suckled during the comedown. I gradually reduced the intensity of my indulgence, hoping that my momentum somewhat matched how the waves of pleasure were easing her back towards the shore. I relaxed as she relaxed, but even when her body fully unwound, I continued to carefully explore with my tongue.
"Oh, honey," Mom whinnied as she fell onto her stomach. "That was amazing. I haven't cum like that in a long, long time."
I finally released the hold I had around her legs and pulled my face out from between her cheeks. I licked my lips, scooping a tiny dribble of nectar onto my tongue. "That was fun. Can we do it again?"
She rolled her eyes. "Okay, mister. I'm already impressed! You don't have to try so hard."
I sat back on my knees and wiped my chin free of juice. "Speaking of hard..."
Mom lamented my sacrifice through sarcastic whinging. "Poor, poor baby. Did you get all big and hard from eating me out?"
"I was already hard!" I complained.
"Just like your father," she said giddily. "Next thing I know you're going to ask me to sit it right on your face!"
I had never considered that possibility. "Is that an option?"
"It is if you want it to be, but I think you can be a little more creative than that, can't you, sweet pea? What do you really want to do?"
"I want to fuck you." The words came out of me by accident, as though my body had taken the wheel away from my brain.
"You want to fuck my pussy, sweetheart? Is that what you mean?"
I stood up. "No."
She wiggled in place excitedly. "Tell me. I want to hear it. Tell me exactly what you wanna do."
"I want to fuck you in the ass, Mom -- more than anything in the fucking world!"
"Who's stopping you?"
I grabbed a heaping handful of ass meat and squished it until my fingers turned white. To encourage my advance, Mom made her asshole wink at me a few times, its vulgar gawking beckoning me to stuff it with something.
She got back up on her elbows and arched her back to shove her ass into my face. "I think she needs more lube, don'tcha think, sweet pea?"
I got up onto my feet so that I had a bird's eye view of her superbly fat bottom. "Fuck yes."
My dick bobbed up and down in front of me, its tip pointed to the ceiling with unyielding rigidity. Every flex made it smack against my tummy, and I marvelled at how long it had been suspended in a state of perpetual arousal. It seemed that hours had passed by without it being granted the release that I'd just gifted to my mom.
I pulled her cheeks apart with both hands and gathered spit, which I then dribbled out as one large glob that landed on her asshole with a loud splat. The bubbles pooled around it, frozen in place for a second before - with a wider spread that sought to truly open the tired hole - I provided it with a place to go, with a little help from gravity.
I lined the head of my dick up with her butthole. The inflated knob prodded her slackened hole, then lodged itself snugly inside.
Mom clenched around the tip to give it a kiss, welcoming her new guest. "Okay, honey. Now gimmie a big push."
Even with the effort that we had already put in to loosen it, the tiny hole still looked far too small to fit my wide, bulging mushroom cap. I knew, however, that it was just an optical illusion - the mere appearance of tightness - that would be dispelled the moment I applied pressure to the ring of weakened muscle.
I pushed through the thick glaze of saliva coating her backdoor to embed the whole head inside in one satisfying thrust. The raised rim of tenderized meat protruded from her body, forming a circular, bulging cushion into which the entire head of my cock had disappeared.
I tensed up to try and make my dick flex inside of her, but she had such a secure hold on it that it barely moved at all.
Mom snickered. "Nuh-uh, honey." The only place you're going is deeper."
I fed another girthy inch into her hungry bottom, pushing more saliva out of the way that escaped around my cock in the form of tiny air bubbles that popped along the sides as I sank in deeper.
"Ooooooh!" Mom moaned.
"Too much?" I asked with concern.
"No!" she insisted. "I'm just getting used to your size. The plugs don't reach that deep."
"Can I keep going, then?"
"Of course you can."
"Thanks, Mom. I think you're doing a great job."
She made a noise that was part laughter, part a sigh of relief. "I'm really trying, sweet pea. Does it feel good so far?"
"Fucking hell yes!"
She rocked her butt side to side, setting the two heavy slabs of putty to wobbling. "Just wait until you're at the bottom. Ready to slowly go a bit further?"
In hindsight, she was probably wise to remind me of her fragility. She had witnessed my brand of obsession before, and thus knew how best to deal with it.
Right then, however, I did not pay much heed. Whatever I'd chosen to hear, I told myself it was nothing more than nerves. With less caution than she had requested, I eagerly crammed another meaty portion of dick inside of her.
Her compact walls seized up as I pushed them apart. "Oh, ooohhh! Oh, wow."
"Was that slow enough?" I asked with concern, though not enough to stop me from venturing deeper as I did.
"N-not really, no!" Mom squirmed in place, shifting her weight between her knees. "It's a little different than I remember. I don't think your father was quite so-- oooOOoohhh, fuck!"
Her sentence was interrupted when I stuffed another pulsating inch into her guts, once again without heeding her request for patience. My dick had entered her so effortlessly that I had neglected to consider whether she might have wanted a word of warning beforehand. With such a well-trained hole, and so much saliva saturating it, it was easy to forget that it had been a while since it had been invaded - and, apparently, never by a cock quite so large.
"Quite so what, Mom?" I asked. I definitely wanted to hear her say it.
She slapped an open palm against the mattress. "So damn big, sweetheart! God! He was no slouch, but you're just... bigger."
"How much bigger?"
She chuffed under her breath. "You wanna know? Well, I have a toy that's about your size that I had to stop using because it made my tummy ache."
My cheeks were lit aflame. "Really? I'm that big?"
"It's the width, honey. It's like trying to shove a baby's arm in there, but I'm trying my best."
I rubbed the small of her back in slow circles. "I know, Mom. Can I go in a little more?"
She turned to the side to look at me over her shoulder. "I'm a big girl; I can take it. How close am I to the bottom?"
I gazed down to find my dick half-stuffed into her. I had never seen it in such an advanced state of arousal. It even looked big to me. "Um, sure. Almost there, Mom!"
She did not buy it for a second. "You're such a liar! I can't even feel your balls against my pussy yet."
"Want me to put them there?"
She groaned apprehensively. "If you promise to do it nicely, yes."
I had already planned to, but only so that she would enjoy the experience and hopefully allow me to do it again in the future. In my heart, I knew I wanted to thrust the rest of the way into her so hard that my dick would push her belly out. It was a foolish fantasy, but still, every neuron in my brain screamed for me to jam myself into the gorgeous woman submitting herself before me.