I was beginning to forget what a cock looked like! Though, the vibrating one did possess a certain charm after a couple of wines in front of the flat screen.
Things had calmed down a tad between myself and the demon child, as of late. Actually, his face got off fairly lightly — just his eyebrows and all the hair on one side of his head. The main damage was to his hands and forearms, as he tried to break his drunken fall. Needless to say, he was majorly messed up. And this was only the beginning of my woes.
My healthcare coverage hiccupped and died after three. I got bills like the Beatles used to get fan mail. I spent so much time on the phone with them, debt collectors named their children after me.
Things were a little strained between young Daniel and I, upon arriving back at chez moi. Which was tough, considering I had to feed him, help change his clothes and comb his hair. His hands were just two big blobs of plaster of Paris.
I walked over and stood in front him as his squiggled on the couch. The look he gave me…I wanted to brain him with the side table. What a little ingrate! When we got to the bowl, I got down on my knees and unzipped his pants.
Boy, had it been a while since I did something like that! There was a little reaction when I took his penis in my hand. A little reaction from him, that is. My heart nearly smashed my left tit into my face, it was beating so hard.
My hands were shaking a little, as I aimed it at the bowl. Suddenly, Danny let out this little grunt and I could feel the stream of wee wee coursing through his shaft. A new experience, at my age! Yes, I know he was my son. Yes, I know he was only Yes, I know that I was thinking about it later that night when I was wanking myself into a stupor.
If that makes me a terrible mother, at least I had some comfort in the fact that Danny was a terrible son. It seemed to gush for minutes. He must have had a bladder the size of a weather balloon.
Finally, his body had this little shiver and then the steady stream slowed to a trickle. I gave his knob a little jiggle. Put it back in now, please? Believe you me, there was nothing remotely sexy about that. I became quite brazen. My post-pee shake got a little longer each time.
Removing bits of underwear fluff from the head had also become a minor obsession. And each time I returned his warm, pink spiggot back to their cottony home, it was just that little bit more swollen. Once, I even thought I felt a throb! I instantly self-lubricated and my nipples shot out like Whack-a-Mole heads at a fairground midway.
I was spending so much time feeding my vagina that I had almost completely forgotten how broke I was because of him. On the third day, things go serious. Perhaps we were both looking forward to it, I have no idea what was going through his head. Well, the big one. I saw plenty of what was going through the small one.
As the water filled the tub, I undressed him. Admittedly, a little slower that I could of. I let his jeans slide slowly down his legs and then gently peeled his underwear off. Happy was already a tad engorged. After his shirt came off, I wrapped his two Mummy arms in plastic bags and then helped him into the tub. Danny was a little taken aback when I took my shirt off.
It was no big deal. Eventually, I picked something lacey and fairly revealing, plopped my tits into it and hoped for the best. I started wonderfully soaping up his chest and arms. My new best friend was showing some signs of life, but remained relatively flaccid, considering my boobs were hanging just underneath his chin. I proceeded with my stewardess-like lecture.
Perhaps now, I had gone from being a minor pervert to just plain evil. No one has had their balls more lovingly sudsed that Danny did that day.
I rolled them around tenderly in my hands, I slid a soapy pinky up and down his scrotum and circled the end of my index finger around his pucker hole. He was as hard as a rock. The head of his johnson was sticking up above the water line like Ko Tapu look it up. As I bent down to get better access, I let my left breast press against his arm.
Now his penis was actually twitching. I turned my washing of the shaft into a work of art. Starting just above his nards, I slowly agonizingly so soaped up his baby-maker, rubbing up and down in tiny increments as I languorously made my way up to the business end. He body began stiffening as I approached the end of his barrel. Huge dollops of splooge were erupting out the end of his knob. It was shuddering in my hand like a vomiting frat boy on a wild Friday night.
It was all I could do not gasp. My little pleasure hole was screaming for some immediate attention. Poor Danny was in a total panic. I got him to lean back and just relax. With a hand towel, I soaked up the creamy goo. I squeezed that last few drops of cum out of his cock as I talked. I was at the top of this rope and I had to get down but the more I slide on it, the closer I was to climaxing. I decided to get down as quickly as possible. By the time I hit the ground, I had this thundering sensation shooting up from between my legs from my vagina.
When I dried off his lower half, I got down on my knees and put my face as close to his doowanger as I could without getting it stuck up my nose. That would have been a HUGE giveaway. What had I done? Where was this all going? I may not have had the strictest moral upbringing but incest was definitely off the table. Not after what happened. I also let the top sheet slide off my breasts.
This caught his attention. I pretended not to notice it happened. Heck — if you want to know the truth, I still touch myself. What was I doing? I was laying out the case to give my son another handjob! The next one will be easier. I unsensibly decided to take the plunge. I pretended not to notice the eyes popping out of his head as I turned for the bathroom.
I crawled into bed next to him, my nipple pressing against his chest, as I put my face an inch from his. I gave him a little peck on the lips. Quickly, the hand cream was warmed and applied. I spread it on incredibly lightly. No guy would say no to that offer and my son was no exception. I burrowed my face into his meaty nards and began to pump his pud.
Having a pair of young hairy balls on the bridge of my nose was pure heaven.