All I want for Christmas is My Son's Sweet Ass
by Jaz1701 (jaz1701@webtv.net)
(You might want to read "All I want for Christmas is
My Mom's Sweet Ass...and a Webtv" first. This story
will stand-alone but it's definitely a sequel, Jaz)
My name is Susan. I'm not using my last name because
I have read some of the e-mails that you people have
sent regarding my son's story about raping me-frankly
you people make me sick. You disgust and scare the
shit out of me. What my son did was wrong. It was
evil. He betrayed me, he RAPED me!
He laughed in my face, spit on my love, and then
wrote to every fucking adult story site, bragging
about how all he wanted for Christmas was my sweet
ass. But you people loved it. You loved it when he
stormed into my bedroom and stripped me. You just
loved it when he agreed not to get me pregnant, only
if I would help him fuck my ass. Oh you thought it
was so great when I spread my ass for him, when he
licked and sucked and drooled in my butt, when he
made me cum like a slutty little whore. You begged
him for pictures of me. Just because I posed for
Penthouse does not mean, I want you seeing me now.
I'm a completely different person. Some of you felt I
deserved it because I allowed my son to kiss me and
fondle me a little earlier. I was drunk, I missed my
dead husband.
John looks like his father at 16; the age that I met
and fell in love with him. He took me out to the
Paladin Club for a special dinner, just like my
husband used to. For a little while the alcohol, my
loneliness and the fond memories of that place
combined and it felt like my loving husband was with
me again. For a little while I responded to my son as
if he were my husband. From his filthy story that he
published via Webtv, I learned that was his plan all
along.
While it is true that was a mistake; it does not
change one simple fact. I said NO! I begged him to
stop. Even if a woman makes out with you a little,
even if she feels a guy's butt through his pants,
that does not mean she has to have sex with him. I
have the right not to be fucked up the ass by my son.
No means NO. One year ago my son took something
precious away from me. He took my ability to trust
myself, my judgment. I mean if I am too stupid to
realize that my only son, is lusting after me for
weeks, that he is committed to raping his mother-who
can I trust. This last year has been a shit-storm. I
have tried to forget and forgive my son. But when I
saw that he used that fucking WEBTV to tell the whole
world what he did, that there was no shame, no
remorse-I feel the anger begin to bubble up in me.
When I think how many of you took pleasure in my
rape, how many of you beat your tiny little pricks in
glee at my humiliation, at the worst thing that has
ever happened to me-I want revenge. Yes John took
something precious from me; but this Christmas I'm
taking it back.
I'm getting a little ahead of myself. I did not come
to the decision to rape and humiliate my son easily.
I want you to understand that. The period immediately
after my rape was very difficult. I could not bring
myself to call the police on my only son, to
humiliate myself further by letting the whole world
know what a fool I was, what a sick prick I had for a
son. I was so scared. Imagine sleeping every night
with a rapist in your house. You try taking a shower
knowing your rapist is just a few yards away. You're
naked, wet and defenseless and you hear a floorboard
creak, or was it the bathroom door opening? For two
months I barricaded my door every night, and slept in
fear of a second rape. It never came. As Valentine's
Day approached II found my 16 yr old son crying in
the kitchen. I was still his mother. No matter how
angry I was at him.
"John what's wrong, why are you crying."
"Oh mom (sniffle), I just realized that you are never
going to forgive me for what I did. You don't love me
any more. With Dad and Grandma dead, I have nobody.
Mom I didn't really rape you. I just needed you so
bad; I kind of pressured you until you surrendered
that incredible ass to me. I know it was wrong, that
it was a mistake. But mom wasn't it wrong for you to
make out with me and squeeze my ass while we were
dancing? Look- all I'm saying is we would both handle
things differently if we could relive that night. I
miss you, I love you so much. I'd do anything to get
you to love me again. "
As a mother it is never easy to see your child in
pain. Your instincts take over and you want to
comfort him. I can't explain it better than that. As
angry as I was...there was a part of me that had to
wonder what would have happened if I had stopped my
son the first time he kissed me. If I had never
gotten drunk, or played with his ass, would he have
raped me that night? Was this my fault?
"John I don't hate you...I have to admit that you
have damaged our relationship. I am a little scared
to be around you but I am still your mother and I
want us to work things out."
I was startled when my son rushed over to me and
wrapped his arms around me and held me tight to him.
He was still crying.
"I am so sorry mom, I love you. Please you gotta
forgive me. I need your love and your trust back.
Just say you will give us a chance. I swear to god
mom I will never force you to have sex with me
again. "
At first I was so scared being held by my rapist,
smelling him, feeling my breasts mash tight against
his chest I did not know what to do. Then a strange
thing happened. As he rocked me, as his tears washed
me, as I heard the pain and sincerity in his
voice...he started becoming my son again. I briefly
hugged him back, and reached up to brush his tears
away. No matter what he had done this was my only
son. He was right about one thing, we had nobody
else.
"John...I want us to get past this. I am willing to
try. You are my son and I love you. It's going to
take some time but...I think we have a good chance if
we take it slow and work hard," I said as my son
lifted me in the air and spun me around.
He was deliriously happy and it was infectious. John
held me for several minutes. He seemed so grateful
for the privilege he did not want it to end. It was
almost as if he feared that once he let me go I would
retreat back into the shell of the past 2 months.
John was a big bo-strike that, a big man. At 6'2" he
was defensive captain of the junior varsity football
team. I could feel his muscles rippling and bulging
around me. His hands were so large, they covered half
my back and stomach, When he lifted me I felt
myself sliding against him, against his manhood. He
wasn't exactly erect but... there was definitely some
activity down there. He must have felt me stiffen,
because he put me down immediately.
"Mom I have a great idea, now hear me out. If we are
going to start over, I'd like to have another chance
at our date. Think about it-that's where everything
went wrong. I need to be able to see you as my mom
again, not as an incredibly sexy woman. This Sat is
Valentines day, let's go to the Paladin Club again.
If I can control myself there, if I can dance with
you, in a romantic setting, if we can drink and let
our guards down around each other-just have fun like
we used to, I think it will go a long way to healing
us. Please mom, I'm begging you. Give me a chance to
prove that you can trust me."
For that one instant I did trust him. He sounded so
sincere, so desperate to please. Still I was
surprised when I heard my voice say "yes" to him. I
rushed out of the kitchen and locked myself in my
room. The next morning there was a knock on my
bedroom door. "Mom can I come in, I need to talk." I
was wearing a pair of green silk pajamas, I threw a
robe on over it and said, "Come in."
This was the first time John and I had been in my
room since Christmas, since the night he raped me. I
felt my heart pounding, but I tried to stay calm. As
I looked at him I could see he was upset about
something. He sat down next to me on the bed. The
bed he had fucked my ass in less than 2 months
earlier. I was a little scared but I tried to be a
good mother.
"Tell me what's wrong John, you seem pretty upset."
"It's Beth mom, I think she's going to dump me cuz
I'm too inexperienced. You were my first real woman.
I was in to sports so much, and then I was in love
with you for months...I was a virgin when we made
love. Beth has been great for me and I don't want to
lose her, but I don't know what to do." I could not
believe it, he was seeing a girl his own age. This
was terrific! I had been so out of touch with his
life lately, I did not even know he was dating. I
wanted this relationship to succeed. I needed my son
to re-focus his attention on another woman. I was
afraid if this relationship ended badly he would
fixate on me again. If he needed help I would make
sure he got it.
"John, is there anything specific that Beth doesn't
like about your relationship?"
"Well...it's kind of embarrassing, but... she doesn't
seem to like kissing me, she's always distracted or,
I don't know bored. I guess I'm not a very good
kisser," he mumbled.
I was very confused. I found myself in the odd and
awkward position of taking up for my son's kissing
technique. I knew firsthand that he was an amazing
kisser. Before he raped me I had willingly made out
with him twice. The way he licked and sucked on my
lips...was simply delicious. His tongue played with
mine and I was just a step away from surrendering my
body to him when my conscience woke me up and I told
him to stop. No matter what happened after-his kisses
were sweet and had made my pussy sweat, and drip, and
itch for him. Something drastic must have changed. I
decided to find out what.
"John...don't take this the wrong way...but the only
way I can help is to see what you are doing wrong.
Can you control yourself enough to show me. I am
trusting you to stop when I tell you to. I want to
help but I will hate you forever if you take
advantage of me again. Are we clear. When I say stop
you stop," I warned in a stern tone.
I stood up and moved close to my son. I could see he
was nervous and that helped me a little. Slowly he
bent towards me and lightly brushed my lips with his.
At first he kissed all around the corners of my mouth
before pulling me in snug for a deep soul kiss. As I
shared my son's warmth, breath and saliva there was
no denying that it felt good. That surprised me. How
could it possibly feel good to kiss the man who raped
me? To this day I don't know. Sometimes I think back
to that moment and realize how different my life
would have been, if I had not kissed my son that
fateful Valentine's eve. I knew it was wrong, as good
as it felt to be in his arms, to kiss his neck, to
suck on his adam's apple-I never lost track of that.
I guess that's why I asked him to stop.
"Please mom, mmm just a little longer baby. You taste
so good," he said as he greedily sucked my lips; as
he hungrily devoured my tongue. His hands were
inching towards my breasts.
"John let go of me now! Take your hands off me this
instant!" I yelled in rising panic.
"Mom, mom calm down, I'm not gonna hurt you. Look I'm
stepping back. It's over. I won't hurt you ever
again baby. You can trust me." As I collected myself
a part of me felt cold. My body had begun
instinctively preparing itself for sex and suddenly
it was over. A part of me cried out in protest at the
removal of my son's warmth. I wanted to wrap myself
in his strong arms, to feel his hard on jamming into
me. The silk of my pajamas was gliding over my clit,
and clung between the folds of my ass. I was horny,
and wet, and a little scared-but mostly I was horny.
What's more I think I knew what John's problem with
Beth was, and it wasn't good.
"John do you kiss Beth like you just kissed me?"
"No way mom you kiss a lot better than she does.
Don't worry mom, I'm not going to do it; but after
one kiss I feel like stripping those pajamas off you,
spreading you on this bed and licking your cunt. I
want to taste your sweet ass-meat again, to play with
it, to ram my cock in it until you tell me that you
love me. Beth never makes me feel like that. I'm
starting to realize she never will.. oh my god, the
reason I'm so bad with her is cuz I don't love her. I
think part of me feels like I'm cheating on you. That
you won't want me if you found out I was fooling
around with another woman. I still love you mom, only
you. What am I gong to do, the only woman I want is
the one that I can never have, oh mom what am I going
to do?" John said in bitter dismay as he ran out of
my room.
" I don't know son, I don't know what we are going to
do," I said to the walls of my empty room.
Valentines day had arrived and we spent most of the
day avoiding the large pink elephant that was in
every room of our house. I could not believe that I
was really going to do it. I was going out on a
second date with my son the Rapist. It was a strange
day from the start.
"Mom, wake up. I made you breakfast. "
It took me a few minutes to adjust to my
surroundings. I was in my bed. I had been dreaming
of my 10th wedding anniversary. My husband had taken
me to the Paladin Club. Afterwards we had come home
and made love for hours. It was the first time he had
worked up the nerve to ask me for anal sex. I always
knew he liked playing with my ass. Ron would often
sniff and kiss me down there, but it had never gone
any farther. Once shortly after I posed for Penthouse
he jokingly pretended that he could not find my pussy
hole and suggested using the other one instead. I
guess the look of fear and disgust on my face had
caused him to wait over 8 years before asking again.
That night I was deliriously happy, more than a
little tipsy, and madly in love. I could not deny
Ron, my ass. He was so gentle, incredibly tender.
He let me get used to his thick cock filling my tiny
asshole. He was so grateful after that first fuck, I
just could not deny him a second one the next night.
Anal sex definitely added spice and new energy to our
sex life. Ron slowly trained me to need him that way.
He always made sure that I came at least twice
anally. Sometimes he would lick my anus, plunging his
tongue in and out, deeper and deeper, while rubbing
and massaging my butt cheeks for what seemed like
hours. Often he made me cum by playing with my clit
while he rammed my ass. Anal sex became the
predominant way we had sex. Oh he'd fuck my pussy
sometimes.
I mean sometimes I'd get an itch there and only a
nice thick dick could scratch it. But I always knew
after that first time, on my 10th wedding anniversary
that my husband was never completely satisfied till
he spread my cheeks open and slipped into the bottom
of my tender, juicy little ass. That night was
special to me, and after my husband's death, I'd
revisit it. I'd smile at my dream lover and wait for
that unique sensation of him slowly filling my ass
with his cock.
I had obviously been having that dream again the
morning John came into my room. My legs were slick
with my own juices. and the front of my Pajamas were
noticeably damp. I had been sweating profusely and
smelled like an odd mix of sweat, sex, soap and body
lotion. I slowly opened my eyes and could see that
John had prepared a lovely breakfast for us. By the
time I was fully conscious he had set up two trays
and before I could protest slid into bed next to me.
We had done it 100 times before but not once since
the rape. I missed it a little. The chance to catch
up, the special intimacy of a mother and son. In the
past sometimes he would cook and serve me in my bed
and then another day I'd return the favor in his
room. It made me feel like we were a family. I sat up
in bed, smiled at him and thanked him for the meal.
The maternal feelings did not last long. It seems
that while I slept I had gotten hot and somehow
unbuttoned 4 buttons on my Pajamas top. When I sat up
my 36 D breasts spilled out into the open. As I was
still aroused from my dream my long pink nipples were
prominently displayed to my son. I realized what had
happened after he was staring at me for a couple of
seconds and quickly tried to cover up.
John stopped me.
"No mom, don't hide them. Let me see. Oh my god look
at those nipples, look at them. I gotta have a
taste."
John quickly bent to my chest and began slurping on
my right tit for several seconds. His hands were
rolling my left nipple between his thumb and
forefinger, and he lightly squeezed it. The whole
thing lasted around 20 seconds. The smell of my pussy
filled the air. It was embarrassing.
"John...(groan) you, you have to stop. Please."
John gave me a few last baby sucks, and took a deep
breath with his face buried between my breasts and
slowly pulled away.
"I did it mom, see I CAN control myself. Mom can I
just do one more thing? It will only take a couple of
seconds. Then I promise I'll stop." I never got a
chance to respond. He opened the final 2 buttons on
my top and began licking my stomach. He then started
nibbling on the nubbin of my outie belly button. His
hands darted inside my bottoms and he quickly scooped
several fingers worth of my sticky cum and fed it to
himself. Apparently I was finger licking good, cuz
my son had a happy smile on his face as he licked his
fingers clean. I still had not had a good cum, but he
stopped what he was doing and sat up in bed next to
me. He then pulled me into his lap. My top was
completely unbuttoned but at least he was not looking
directly at me. I could feel John's hard on pressing
into me. It felt good. His arms wrapped around me and
he firmly cupped my breasts. He did not rub them or
play with my nipples. He was just holding them,
almost in a friendly manner.
It was clear that he was allowing me to make the next
move. I didn't. I just stayed there in my son's
arms, with his hands on my tits, and his dick
pressing hard into my pajama clad ass and ate my
breakfast. I wanted to tell him that I was just as
scared, and confused and horny as he was. I wanted to
tell him hat if he were any other man I'd be fucking
him now like a silly little slut in heat. But he
wasn't any other man, he was my son. Worse still he
was my Rapist. That wound was still there and it made
it difficult for me to surrender my body to him;
willingly, completely, utterly. In the back of my
mind was that scene when I begged him in this very
bed not to rape me, when I cried, and was humiliated
by my only son. He had not cared how much he hurt me,
how scared I was. He wanted my ass and he just
fucking took it.
As horny as I was, I did not forget. So we sat there
in my bed while the smell of my cunt blended with the
aroma of scrambled eggs, toast and coffee. I was not
able to cum, but I did not say a word as he suddenly
gasped, squeezed my tits hard and began humping me.
For a good 30 seconds he dry fucked me, while I
pretended to watch TV. I did not help him, but I did
not stop him. He finally settled down and removed his
hands from my tits. He gave me a tight embrace and
sighed in contentment. I buttoned up and my son held
me until I drifted off to sleep in his arms. My dream
picked up right where it had left off.
Once again my husband was peeling my ass open. It was
ok to cum now, because Ron had every right to fuck my
ass. I felt so safe and secure in my husband's arms.
I felt flood after flood of cum trickle down my legs
as he power fucked my ass. That night I put on my
favorite black evening dress, and a pair of high
heels. I don't know why but I put on the necklace
John had given me for Christmas. It felt strange to
slip it on. I had never worn it. Barely looked at it,
but I still knew the inscription by heart. "Susan-I
love You. You are mine forever, body and soul-John."
As I came downstairs I felt a wave of deja vu, mixed
with de jamis sweep over me. I knew I had been in a
situation like this before. I had come down to meet a
man, to display myself to him, to seek his approval
at my appearance. As familiar as it felt...I was
trying so hard to divorce myself from those emotions,
to distance myself from prior romantic associations,
that this time felt a little bit like it was the
first time for me. Even though I knew I had been in
this place before, I somehow felt that I never had.
John looked me over with love and lust in his eyes.
"God , you look so beautiful. If you weren't my mom
I'd have to kiss you right now," he said just as he
had last Christmas eve. Then he reached into the
crevice of my breasts and pulled out the necklace he
had given me. The necklace that proclaimed his love
and declared his ownership of me. How could I have
been so stupid! I felt a hot blush spread over my
face as he smiled in satisfaction. I had to set
things straight.
"Well I AM your mother so all you get is a kiss on
the cheek." I never realized how erotic a kiss on the
cheek could be. John began licking and nibbling on my
cheek. It went on and on. He smelled so good, and
felt so warm and hard-and we were not really
kissing...I let it continue for quite a while.
Finally he gave me a tight hard hug, and said it was
time to go.
The Paladin Club was packed with young lover's
enjoying each other. Good food, a romantic setting,
and a killer jazz band-it was perfect as always. I
could almost swear we had the same waiter as last
time. John tipped him 40 dollars as soon as we sat
down. An obsequious grin spread over his face.
"Good evening kind sir, and lovely madam. Welcome to
the Paladin. My name is Jerrard. If I can service any
of your needs, please instruct me. I await your
pleasure. Perhaps the gentleman would care to inspect
our wine list."
I did not handle wine very well. I never had. I don't
know why but it always hit me hard and fast. I
realized this was a big part of the mistake I had
made last time. I had let John control the evening.
Treated him like an adult. Responded to him like a
woman, instead of as his mother. Never again.
"The Gentleman is only 16 so he will have a coke
instead. Please bring me an iced tea, "the waiter
nodded and scurried off to do my bidding. John
looked as if he had been poleaxed. That's pretty much
how the evening went. I was pleasant. We had fun, but
I never lost sight of the fact that I was MOM. We did
not dance, or drink or squeeze each other's asses.
Every attempt that he made at intimacy was
immediately squashed. As the evening drew to a close
I realized that whatever strange spell that my son
had over me, I could fight it. As long as I did not
lose control. I was so happy! It was refreshing to
start getting our lives back on track. We returned
home and John was very quiet. "Mom I had a good time
tonight. May I kiss you good night?" John asked in a
tone that barely concealed his desire for me. Uh, uh,
not again mister. I knew once John started kissing me
I would be his. "No John, I think we are going to
take a break from kissing and hugging for a while.
I'm not mad at you, it's just that we have got to
start behaving like mother and son again. "
John's eyes flashed briefly, and he started to
protest. Then as he saw the determination on my face,
he took a deep breath and said, "I understand mom. "
I thought it was over. I thought I had my son back. I
planned to start dating and to encourage him to do
the same. Incredibly after all we had been through,
we were going to be all right. The End...
Or so I thought.
But I was wrong. God how I was wrong.
For several months John and I lived as a perfectly
normal mother and son. We did not hug, kiss or share
breakfast in bed anymore; but for the most part we
were happy. It was just after Thanksgiving, and I was
looking forward to Christmas. My mother in law's
death had left us pretty well set financially.
Between my job, Ron's insurance policy, her will, and
John's part time job-we were very comfortable. I
could finally afford to get a computer. I bought an
Internet ready Pentium 3. I had surfed the net a
little at work.
As John already had his (Fucking) Webtv, it was
pretty much all mine. Like every other person on the
Internet I eventually checked out a few of the adult
sites. Some of them were so hot! I particularly liked
the Story sites. Just the idea of thousands of people
writing free sex stories, just for the fun of it.
One day I was visiting Kristen's Site and ran across
the stories of Jaz1701. This guy was really sick. He
seemed to have a twisted fascination with rape/incest
stories. I found myself wondering what kind of fucked
up life this loser must have had to make him fixate
on rape stories. The sad thing was some of his
stories were actually well written. I am ashamed to
say that as I became desensitized a little to his
disgusting subject matter, I sometimes found myself
becoming aroused. As I read through story after story
of Fathers raping daughter's, Brother's blackmailing
and humiliating their sisters, there was even one
where a daughter raped her father!
Then it happened.
The name of the story was "All I Want For Christmas
is My Mom's Sweet Ass... and a Webtv. As I read it I
felt an eerie sense of dread begin to seep into me.
This story was about a woman named Susan(Just like
me), she had a son named John(just like me). Her
husband had died and she hated her mother in law(me).
It was surreal. I kept scrolling through the events
of last Christmas. Jaz1701 knew the details of my
humiliating rape. Word for fucking word. You want to
know how stupid I was? I thought John had confided in
a friend and they had betrayed us both. I thought
that until I saw his e-mail address. In all of his
previous stories it was Jaz1701@hotmail.com.
This time though he changed it to Jaz1701@webtv.net.
Web-Fucking-TV. There was no getting around it. Only
one person knew the details of my rape, AND owned
a(fucking) Webtv. Jaz1701...is my son, John. I felt
like someone had kicked me in the side of the head.
Why would he do this? How could he betray me again.
Raping me wasn't enough? He had to tell the world
about it. I had to learn more. I took the next day
off from work. When John went to school, I tried to
break into his (fucking) Webtv. It wasn't hard. The
son of a bitch's password was "RAPE". I looked in his
mailbox and found dozen's of e-mails from his
Readers. Some were about my story. Here's a few word
for word.
"Jaz you sure showed your slutty mom who was boss.
Send some pics dude".
AND
"Jaz what an insightful and enchanting modern day
fairy tale. I particularly enjoyed the skewed
juxtaposition of the mother/son dynamic and the
subtle judeo/christian battle for supremacy. Kudos
and excelsior!"
FINALLY
"Jaz you are sick, and will burn forever in the fiery
pit of Gahanna, there will be the weeping and
gnashing of your teeth. Repent Sinner. I was
patrolling all of these devil inspired adult sites
and praying for the chance to save a soul. I have
read all of your stories and must say they are
filthy. Do you have any more? Please send pics of
your mom so my parishioners can pray for her. Amen."
The more I read, the angrier I got. My son did not
love me. He had been living a lie for the past year.
He was not the least bit sorry for what he did to me.
To the contrary, he reveled in it. My fear, shock,
confusion, outrage humiliation were intoxicating to
him. He loved hearing me lose control, begging and
sobbing for mercy, mercy that he would never give.
For the first time I was able to read how my son
really felt about me. I was not his mother, not even
a woman. I was a pair of big tits, a juicy ass and a
warm wet cunt. Just a silly little whore for him to
stick his fat cock into. My rape was no accident. It
was not the chance result of too much wine, and a
flare-up of hormonal lust. No it was a calculated
seduction, a planned attack. As I read through e-mail
after e-mail, as I visited his saved favorites, I
realized that Jaz1701 was a very sick individual. He
clearly needed help from medical professionals. He
wasn't going to get it from me.
As I sat in front of his (fucking)Webtv a story idea
worth of Jaz1701 began to form. Jaz liked clever
little rape stories, so I was going to make him the
star of one. He wrote chapter 1 of "All I want for
Christmas..." I would write Chapter 2.
Whenever he was out of the house I would sign on to
HIS e-mail and write this story. I saved it in his
deleted mail under the title "You can make money on
the Internet", I figured even if he checked his
deleted mail he would not look at a piece of spam
like that.
My plan is pretty simple. I am going to get my son
drunk/drugged, and horny. I'll let him think he can
have another piece of my sweet ass. Then I'll tie
him up. Humiliate him, take Polaroid's and distribute
them to his school. Finally I purchased a 10-inch
dildo and when he was tied down, drunk, drugged,
crying and helpless I planned to fuck my son up his
hairy ass till he bled.
Merry fucking Christmas you he-bitch!
Best of all I would post the story to all of his
favorite filthy sites. That's right Kristen you
slut, I mean YOU. I hold you partially responsible.
Christmas Eve had come and the eggnog was flowing
freely. We had both received invitations to friends
and distant families parties, but had declined them
all. We wanted Christmas to be special and very
private this year. I pretended to get a little drunk
and stumbled into John.
"Whoa mom I got you, you ok?
"Thanks baby, you are getting so tall and strong," I
said as I reached up and felt my son's powerful arms.
I leaned into him and my nips of my breasts brushed
along his chest. That's all it took and he was hard.
He locked his arms around my waist and softly moved
his crotch against mine. He bent down and kissed me
for the first time since Valentines day. Suddenly he
picked me up by the waist of my jeans and I was
dangling 3 inches off the ground. The jean material
was chaffing snug and hard against my pussy and for
a minute I forgot my plan. I was sucking on my son's
tongue for all I was worth, He was breathing hard and
swinging me from side to side in the air. He backed
me up against the kitchen table and sat me down on
it.
"I have waited a long time for this. No more fooling
around mom. You are going to fuck me willingly
tonight. I. Want. Your pussy. Tonight. Are you going
to give yourself to me mom. Can I do anything I
want?"
"Yes, yes damnit I tried to do the right thing
but...I can't deny it any longer. I love you and I am
yours forever body and soul. I...think we both could
use a drink. "
John smiled as I went to the fridge and got out the
container of spiked eggnog I had prepared earlier. I
had crushed 8 valiums and used 130 proof liquor in
John's drink. I sipped on my non-alcoholic nog and
said, "Bottoms up lover. Here is to a wonderful and
sexy night."
John finished his drink in two gulps. He then closed
the distance between us and said," I am going to take
you to my room and fuck you in a minute but first, I
want to see you naked. Now. I am going to spread you
out on this table and eat your cunt out. Take your
clothes off mom." This was happening too fast. the
drugs needed time to work. He was a large man it
could be several minutes before they took full
affect. I had no choice. I slowly stripped for my
son. I felt the panic surge up in me as he roughly
laid me on my back and spread me out on our kitchen
table. He then pulled my legs apart and shoved his
face deep in my steaming cunt. John licked and sucked
and gnawed on me like a mad man. I felt a monster
orgasm building when he said," I need your ass mom.
Get up on all fours and hold it wide open for me. "
My hands were shaking as I got on my knees and hands
on the wobbly table and reached back to obey. His
hands began playing in my ass. He made little circles
around my anus and slowly sunk his pinkie in me. I
could feel it wiggling around inside of me. My butt
muscles clenched on it involuntarily Then he put his
thumb in my ass, and his forefinger in my pussy, and
made his fingertips touch. It was too much. It felt
like I was being fucked by two tiny, wiggling dicks
and I felt pussy juice begin to drip down my leg.
Soon it was a stream and I heard John lapping it up.
His tongue moved from my thighs to my asshole and he
told me to raise my ass higher. I was on all fours, I
had my ass high in the air, and was holding my butt-
cheeks wide apart so my son could eat my ass out. His
tongue was sliding into my little hole and I felt his
saliva and drool filling my ass. He rubbed my cheeks
together and the slippery, lubricated feeling was
quite intense. He rubbed and squeezed and massaged my
slippery wet, drool filled ass for several minutes.
It was hot, and nasty and out of control.
To be honest a part of me loved it. A small part of
me loved how wild I could make my handsome teenage
son. Beneath the surface, below the radar of
morality and right vs. wrong; I was still a hot
sexual women. There was a gut level, animal response
that my son seemed to trigger in me. It would be easy
to deny it, to fool myself into believing I did not
have such disgusting impulses. But not today. John
had awoken this side of me; today and neither of us
would be allowed to hide.
"John...I think it's time we went upstairs. John!
Stop! You are not fucking my ass on the kitchen
table. If you insist on doing this, you WILL do it in
bed like a gentleman. Is that clear!" I screamed as
John was lining his dick up to fuck me silly. To fuck
me into submission. Without a word he stopped. He
reached down and picked me up. His right hand
supported and fondled my ass as he carried me up the
stairs to his bed. John banged into the side of his
doorway as we entered and tripped. We both landed
hard on his bed. He seemed dazed and confused. I
noticed that his erection was gone. The drugs were
working. I decided to test how well.
"I'm ready for you John. You may fuck me as long and
as hard as you want. I am your property. Please
master fuck my ass. I made you wait for a whole year.
Discipline me daddy. Baby needs your hard beef meat
shoved up her ass. Please Jaz rape me like the dirty
little slut I am. I deserve whatever you decide to do
to me. It will make a great story."
"Whu, huh? Jaz, you said Jaz!" John slurred as he
slowly passed out on his bed; and left himself at my
mercy, mercy that would never come.
I went to work quickly. I dressed myself and then
removed the rest of his clothes. I fastened his arms
over his head with two leather straps and laid him on
his back. I then ran to my room and got my
humiliation bag that I had packed the night before. I
slid a pair of my tightest, silk pink bikini thong
panties on my son. I could not help but laugh at how
funny they looked on him. His thick slab of cock was
peeking out the sides and his hairy balls made a
delicious bulge. Of course no proper young lady would
wear panties without a matching bra.
After I snapped the pink lace bra closed, I got out
the curly blonde slut-wig and please-fuck me-candy
apple red lipstick. As I took picture after picture
of my pretty little rapist I was giggling like a
loon. These pictures were going up at John's school,
our church; they would show up in the football locker
room, I would make his life a living hell. Every
thing was almost perfect but there was one more shot
I needed. I pulled out the neon pink, double tipped
dildo. I strapped on the stabilizing harness and
inserted one end into myself. I debated about using
some lubrication on John but decided against it. I
manually rammed the other end in his ass. I shot 5 or
6 Polaroid's before I began to fuck him in earnest.
The first time I slammed my pussy down on my end of
the dildo, he woke up.
"Arrrgh! WHHHas happening? Oww mom, what the fuck are
you doing bitch. Get off me, ow! Please mom, you are
raping me, it hurts, please stop god it hurtssz!" My
half drunk, bra-wearing son screamed in despair and
pain. I loved it.
"Mmm baby momma loves your tight ass. I want to see
your virgin blood Johnny. C'mon little Jaz, you know
you love this thick dick up your butt. You are just
so cute mommy couldn't help herself. You understand
don't you lover. Oh baby your dad would be so proud
if he could see what a precious little buttercup
angel you turned out to be. He probably would have
fucked a hot little man-whore like you himself.
That's it scream for me, go ahead and cry; let it all
out for mommy. Don't be embarrassed little Jaz, mama
still loves you," I said as I raped my Rapist's ass.
Wet sloshing sounds were coming from his ass, and I
could finally see a pinkish brown sludge oozing from
his butt. I reached over and got the Polaroid. When I
pulled the dildo out John's end was covered in blood
and shit. His anus was a gaping hole. I took a couple
of shots and then could not resist sticking 3 fingers
inside of his ass. John began screaming and bucking
wildly on the bed. So I added another finger. And a
thumb. As I fisted my rapist and scratched the inside
of his ass I could not help laughing at how things
had changed. In the course of a year I had gone from
a loving mother, to a rape victim. I forgave my son,
found out he was a sick rape writer, and became a
rapist myself. I wondered what the year 2,000 would
bring. I looked at the clock on the nightstand, it
was 12am-Christmas!
"John look it's Christmas. We can go downstairs in a
few minutes and open our presents. But first I want
you to sing some Christmas carols with me."
John did not want to do it at first...but it seems I
had the upper(or is it lower?) hand, and managed to
convince him. With my fist in his tight, slutty,
sweaty, stinky ass we sang together loud and long...
"I'm dreaming of a white, Christmas..."
EPILOUGE
John is a changed man. He was so cute crying and
begging me not to show those pictures to anyone who
knew him. I made him use that talented tongue of his
to give my pussy some relief. After I was satisfied I
told him I would consider keeping the photos semi
private as long as he behaved himself. I did insist
on distributing his pics on the internet but agreed
not to use his real name. A few of my friends might
get a good laugh out of them...but I have not decided
if I should show them or not.
The best thing to come out of this is that, I think
John respects me again. He knows that no matter how
strong he is, he is just a valium and a dildo away
from getting raped. I am typing this on his (fucking)
Webtv Jaz1701 account and will submit it to Kristen
tonight. I can't wait till he sees the story and
starts getting mail about his rape! Please feel free
to ask HIM for all the pics you want.
See Ya,
Susan, Jaz1701's mom.
Merry Christmas 1999
xoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
xoxoxox
Author's Note
Hi there, as another year draws to a close, I wanted
to take a moment to thank the people who have enjoyed
my stories. Most of you have gotten the joke. Granted
it is a sick and twisted joke, but it IS a joke
nonetheless. Take this story. Now you just know I'm
going to get mail from lots of...interesting people
who want to see pictures of John, er Jaz, uh well
that would be me I guess. Wait a minute no it
wouldn't because this is the Author's Note and Susan
is writing this story so...when you ask for pictures
better make it clear if you want to see me or my mom
the Penthouse Centerfold.
Riiiight.
I'll let you guys in on a big secret. Every adult
story, no matter how implausible it sounds is 100%
true. I'm not kidding. I don't care how many
disclaimers we put on it, it's gospel. 3,4,5 gorgeous
women throwing themselves at teenage boys. Fantasy,
fiction total farce right?
WRONG!
it is all, fucking true. I mean my mom's a centerfold
and we make out all the time. I'm sure you do it all
the time with yours, so you know I speak the truth.
Ladies your dads are all thirty something hunks that
make sweet love to you right? Guys you gotta be with
me on this: I can fuck for 30 to 35 minutes, 4 to 5
times a day, shit we all can right?!
The conspiracy has gone on long enough. In the new
millennium we will learn about society from the
Internet in general and from Adult Story sites in
particular. Everything you really need to know you
can learn from Kristen's Nonconsensual story page. Oh
yeah and from (fucking) Webtv.
There, now I can rest easy.
Drop me a line at Jaz1701@webtv.net
