Tommy & his Mum

part 1: Discovery

Jean sat on her couch, whiling away her late evening/early morning in the usual fashion. Tom Snyder on the TV, ignored as always. Engrossed in the latest Stephen King novel. The empty bottle of white zinfandel on the coffee table finally drained a week after she opened it. She tried to limit herself to two glasses a night, not wanting to get into the bad habit of getting drunk alone.

Alone. Even after 10 years of marriage to a Navy captain, she never got used to Martin's six-month deployments at sea. She never fell into the habits of some other Navy wives she knew. Katie, who went from man to man… meeting them at bars, bringing them home to fill her lonely bed. Louise, who drank herself to sleep every night.

The young Filipino girl, Jasmine (real name? yeah, right) who stripped at the bar just outside the base gates. How humiliating it must be for her meek husband, a chief who met her in a strip club in Manila. He fooled himself into thinking she loved him, and didn't just marry him to get stateside. She'll leave him as soon as her citizenship is secured, Jean told herself every time she saw the sexy little Asian at the commissary.

No, Jean concentrated on raising their eight year old, Tommy. Her baby boy. She devoted nearly every minute of the day to his well-being. Such a frail child, her mothering infuriated Martin, who was sure the boy was going to end up being gay.

Jean didn't care.She committed her life to him. Joined the PTA, arranged piano lessons at age 5 when she noticed his natural musical talent. Nursed him through the slightest cold. Dabbed his tears when he came home crying from the teasing of the other kids. Maybe he was a little bit of a sissy. But Jean only saw an intelligent, sensitive and talented boy and she was determined to make his life as perfect as possible.

Jeans remaining time was spent satisfying her inevitable sexual urges with her best friend, a 8" metal vibrator, which had begun its siren call in her head. Beckoning her to release it from its drawer and take it to bed. It's nights like this one, when memories of the many wonderful nights when Martin returned filled her head. The impassioned animal sex that always lasted long after the sun arose. Ah, nothing like a man returning from sea.

Jean's sister Lee Ann always thoughtfully kept Tommy for the weekend, knowing full well that Jean and Martin's house was no place for a child at those times. At that moment Jean had a particular memory in her head. Martin standing on the bed, legs slightly spread. He's holding her legs under her knees, so far up only her shoulders rest on the bed and her head bent in an uncomfortable position. Martin's cock pistoned her stretched asshole.

The very discomfort of the position heightened the submissive nature of the act. She liked her sailor man to fuck her hard, even mean. The other mothers would be shocked to see her wanton behaviour during these sessions. They knew Jean as a conservative, almost stuffy, Captain's wife and devoted mother.

Jean sighed, marked her place in the book, and decided to go have a date with that friend before she slept. She clicked off Snyder in the middle of some pointless observation. Grabbing her empty bottle and glass, she headed to the kitchen. After discarding the bottle and rinsing the glass, Jean shut off the lights and walked softly down the dark hallway to her bedroom.

As she passed her son's closed bedroom door, she thought she heard a sound. Quietly opening the door she heard it again. Tommy sounded like he was crying. Not bawling, but sniffling and making little mewling sounds. Jean stepped lightly in the room and leaned over her son. Touching his wet cheek, she asked, "What's wrong honey?". Tommy murmured and buried his face in his pillow. Jean rubbed his shoulders, then gripped one to turn him over.

"Tell me hon".

"I'm wet again".

"Oh sweetheart, again?".

Tommy had episodes of wetting his bed until two years ago, but Jean thought he was past that. Now, as then, it happened when his father was away. Jean slipped her hand under Tommy's sheet and felt a very warm puddle of urine between the edge of the bed and Tommy, who was curled up on his side. Her hand brushed against his soaked jockey shorts and was surprised to feel that her son's penis was erect, its shape prominent against the wet cotton. Jean blushed in spite of herself, and quickly pulled the sheet back over Tommy's waist.

She leaned over and kissed her son, whispering to him that she would be right back to clean him up. In a gesture he hadn't made in years, Tommy quickly propped himself up, reached around his mother's back and pulled himself to her breast. Normally Jean would hug her baby boy, but she was startled to feel her son's cheek against her bare breast. As she arranged his sheet, her terry cloth robe had opened revealing one breast.

Now Tommy's face was there. His lips, wet from tears, were at the edge of her large aureola. Jean froze, not wanting to reject her troubled boy, but uncomfortable. Not with the warmth of her boy's skin on hers, but with the realization that the sexuality of the feeling did not bother her. In a motion so slow she was barely aware she was doing it, Jean drew her son's head closer, causing his lips to rest on her nipple.

"There, there my darling...it's ok".

Tommy made a small noise of contentment and parted his lips. Jean held her breath; suddenly aware of the step she was taking. "But was it really a step?", she rationalized in her head. After all, she was just comforting her beloved son. Her hesitation left as she heard the contented purrs coming from Tommy's throat as his mouth closed over her nipple and began to suckle her ever so tenderly. But the position was awkward so Jean temporarily pushed him away, then repositioned Tommy so he was lying across the bed. Jean scooted further onto the bed and drew her son back across her lap.

This time Tommy went to her right breast and let his small hand rest on the left. This felt so natural to Jean, nurturing and comforting her only son this way. She was aware that the black silk panties covering her ample, but not too large bottom, were becoming soaked with Tommy's urine. Jean knew she could not stop at that moment to change the bed, and even thought the warm, wet pee felt oddly nice on her ass. So Jean enjoyed this moment of closeness with her son. She began stroking his hair, then his shoulder. Jean's fingertips found their way down Tommy's thin back until her hand rested on his bottom.

"Honey, you're soaked. Mummyy's going to take your underwear off now", Jean whispered. Tommy nodded and slightly raised his hips as Jean pulled the drenched shorts down his legs. Perhaps it was the horniness that led her down the hallway in the first place, perhaps it was the overwhelming love for her son that led her to take what was indeed a step down a road she would soon admit led to pure lust. Jean held the wet ball of cotton to her nose. Instead of the revulsion she half expected to feel as the ammonia smell of Tommy's briefs filled her nostrils, Jean moaned because it smelled so good...the essence of her baby boy.

She rubbed the shorts over her face, suddenly wanting it all over her. She squeezed as if holding a sponge, and closed her mouth over part of the wet wad and drank the urine as it was forced from the cotton. "God, that is so good...tastes so salty and warm", Jean murmured to herself.

To Tommy, in a reassuring, yet husky voice, Jean said, "See honey. Mummy doesn't think your pee is nasty. It is just something your body produces, and Mummy loves everything about you".

There was slight confusion in Tommy's eyes as his mother forced his mouth from her stiff nipple. Jean took the ball of underwear and spread some urine over her right nipple. She then pressed her son's head back to her breast.

"Here baby...see? It tastes nice, doesn't it?". Tommy's reply was to suck Jean's nipple harder than before, and included little licks, as he tasted his pee. Jean's mind was entering another level now. The tender loving feeling was being replaced by desire. The nagging thought that this was somehow wrong was completely blocked out. Jean closed her eyes and allowed her lust to carry her away.

She opened them when she felt Tommy's hand leave her breast. Unconsciously, Tommy had begun to rub his erect penis. With a smile, Jean was surprised to see that her boy's member was a little bigger than she expected, nearly four inches long. Although thin, and with a small head, it looked like a 1/2 scale model of Martin's. Jean realized that although she had seen her son naked nearly every day, she had not seen his penis fully erect. Now she was moved to touch it, see what it felt like. She placed her hand over his, and Tommy quickly tried to move his hand and turn his hip in embarrassment.

"It's ok honey. It's perfectly ok to touch yourself like that. See, Mummy wants to touch it, too". Jean pressed her palm length ways along the young cock, pushing it against Tommy's lower belly. Slowly, she stroked up and down its length. She felt it respond by twitching against her hand every time it moved over the head. Within seconds, Tommy groaned and bucked his slim hips. He let out a small gasp as Jean saw a thin stream of nearly clear semen escape the tiny hole at the end of Tommy's penis.

She understood that her boy had ejaculated and she wanted to taste his pre-pubescent fluid. After rubbing her palm against the small pool on his belly, Jean brought her hand to her face and licked her son's ejaculate from her hands. It, too, tasted a little salty. But just as tasty as his urine, only a little different in texture. Overcome with desire, Jean pushed Tommy's head back to his pillow and straightened him in the bed.

After forcing his legs apart, Jean lowered her face between them, wanting... no needing...to lick her son clean. Tommy did not resist, his trust for his mother so complete. Jean started at the remnants of the pool of semen, cleaning it with the tip of her tongue. Then it flicked at the tiny drop still left on the tip of his shrunked cock. Jean paused before she took the step that could not be retraced.

She sucked her only son's tiny penis completely into her mouth. It tasted so good. The mixed tastes of semen, urine and the natural muskiness of his crotch combined to drive Jean over the edge. She was sucking her son's penis, tasting and swallowing his bodily fluids! Instead of causing Jean to feel shame, the depravity of the act only confirmed her sense that only she, her son's flesh and blood, could commit these acts. So personal, so intimate. She now knew that she must experience everything with her son...taste every inch of him, letting him taste her. And teach him how to receive pleasure from and give pleasure to her.

Tommy's cock popped from her mouth. Panting, she raised up to look at her son. The sweet smile on his face, and the glazed look in his eyes, convinced her that her son would willingly accept her attentions. As she looked at him, Tommy closed his eyes and sighed.

The wet warmth of Jean's mouth had an unexpected effect. A thin stream of hot urine hit Jean squarely on her nose. Without thinking, Jean grabbed Tommy's dick and directed to pee into her open mouth. She allowed the pee to fill her mouth, then closed her lips and swallowed. This fluid was hotter and fresher than the lukewarm pee that soaked his shorts, and tasted wonderful. The piss that hit her closed mouth coursed down Jean's face, chin and spread over her breasts.

As the warmth reached Jean's erect nipples, something happened which never had before. Without so much as a touch to her hot pussy, Jean had an orgasm. And no small one either. A feeling of pleasure washed over her body, assaulting every nerve ending. Wave after wave, the orgasm didn't seem to have an end. Finally Jean collapsed on top of Tommy, covering her son with her spent body. Tommy loved the way his mother's body felt on him, so wet and warm. After what seemed like an hour, but what was only a few minutes, Jean collected herself. She arose, then bent and lifted her small son up and cradled his body in her arms.

"Let's go get you cleaned up sweetheart", she said. Jean carried her boy in this fashion towards the bathroom, lovingly pressing her lips to his forehead.

"My darling boy. I love you so much", Jean cooed.

"I love you, too, Mummy".

Those words were the final assurance that led Jean on the depraved path that she willingly followed in the next few years. Little did she realize at the time that following that path would eventually cost Jean her marriage, reputation and freedom. And it would cost her the thing she cherished most, her life with her son.

But that would be years in the future. Until then, she would indulge in unspeakable pleasures with her darling Tommy.

Tommy & his Mum, part 2: Confirmation

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published by Tom | http://www.asstr.org/~tinytom

Jean's mind raced as she carried her son into the bathroom. The doubts that had been suppressed by desire during the intimate episode in Tommy's bed crept back into her head. She knew that what she did was depraved...bordering on sick. She had allowed her 8 year old to suckle her breast. She had tasted his urine, even swallowed it. She had put his little penis in her mouth and, as a result, caused him to ejaculate...and she had tasted his semen. And, finally, she had experienced her own orgasm as her baby boy urinated on her.

But God, she thought, what an intense orgasm it was. Without so much as a touch to her vagina, Jean had come in waves, then collapsed on her son, unable to move.

Despite her knowledge that she had committed terrible acts, the warm afterglow she now felt could not be denied. And she knew in her heart that she would repeat these acts, and much more. It felt so good. And, despite the fact that she knew they were wrong, they felt totally natural.

Plus, the look of total contentment on her son's face as he looked up at his mother confirmed to Jean that he would enjoy this new closeness between them. There was no doubt in her mind that the taboo nature of what had transpired increased the level of excitement she felt. It made her feel so close to her son, who already felt like an extension of her.

It seemed so special to share this awakening of desire with the most precious thing in her life. Jean realized that this was just the beginning and there was no turning back.

Jean sat on the edge of the tub, carefully holding Tommy as she turned on the water. As the tub filled, she rocked her baby, softly singing his favourite lullaby. His thumb went into his mouth.

He was so small for eight. Tommy had thin, almost girlish, shoulders and arms. His ribs could be barely seen. His light pink nipples were tiny dots on his pale chest. So lovely, Jean thought. She loved her little boy.

"No honey, here's something better", said Jean as she cupped a breast to his mouth. Tommy eagerly drew the hard nipple between his lips and began to suck. Jean stroked his hair as she felt the stimulation from her nipple course through her body, reaching her uterus in a rush.

Tommy's mother closed her eyes and sighed. After collecting herself, Jean turned and lowered her son's urine scented body into the hot bath water. He sighed sweetly as the water covered him. Jean stood and gazed down at her naked son. Looking into his eyes, she let her robe drop from her shoulders. Hooking her thumb into the band of her panties, she slowly slid them down, revealing the thick dark bush of hair that covered her pussy.

Even with the intimacy she had shared with her son, Jean was nervous about revealing her body to him. She anxiously looked for a sign of approval on his face. Jean needed her son to think she was attractive...needed him to want her as bad as she wanted him. She was rewarded by a big smile on his face.

Tommy's eyes roved over his mother's shapely body. Her full breasts, which sagged ever so slightly; the nipples, large and dark. The swell of her belly, her full hips. Even in his youth, Tommy appreciated his Mum's mature beauty.

"You're pretty Mummy", Tommy whispered.

"Oh thank you Tommy. I'm glad you think so", Jean replied gratefully, "I think you're a very nice looking boy, too".

Tommy blushed and self-consciously covered his small penis, which Jean noticed with a smile, had begun to grow. He likes me, she thought, feeling like a silly schoolgirl. Who knew she would crave her son's desire like this. The very thought of Tommy's excitement caused a wetness between her legs.

"Honey, no need to be shy. I think we can be comfortable being naked together, don't you?"

"I guess so", Tommy replied as he slowly moved his hands away. Jean inhaled at the sight of her boy's hard little cock. In the bright light of the bathroom she could clearly see how perfect it was. The narrow head, topping the slight curve of his erection. Smooth, with no hint of the veins that adorned his father's member. His balls were shrunken by the water and looked like a walnut shell.

Desire ran through Jeans body. Suddenly she had a terrible need to share part of herself with her son. He looked so lovely in the tub. Something took control of Jean and put a thought in her head that, only an hour earlier, she would consider unthinkable.

With glazed eyes, Jean stepped in the tub and stood over her son. His eyes now showed confusion as he watched his mother awkwardly squat over his chest. Her breathing became heavy and she gently grabbed a handful of his hair. Without hurting him, she raised his face towards her mat of brown pubic hair.

Before Tommy knew what was happening, Jean let out a moan as a strong stream of her piss flew from her pussy and sprayed her baby's face. Tommy shut his eyes as the strong smelling fluid flooded them. He gagged slightly when the stream shot into his throat.

"Oh Tommy baby ...please honey, drink Mummy's pee! Please drink it!", Jean begged, tears welling in her eyes as she committed this degrading act to her only son. She was filled with lustful guilt, needing her son to share in her depravity. Tommy answered her prayers by saying "Yes Mummy. I want it. I want your pee Mummy". He was truly her kindred spirit. Tommy gulped down her urine, and let it flow over his face and body.

The tub was tinged yellow with Jean's piss. When the flow stopped, Jean lowered her dripping cunt onto her son's stiff little prick, making a little squeaking noise in her throat as it entered her. Tommy filled her more than Jean expected. She moaned with pleasure as she tightened her pussy, gripping it with her inner muscles. Savouring this moment Jean rested, afraid to put her full weight on his small body.

As before in the bed, Tommy bucked his hips spasmodically. A moan escaped his lips and Jean felt small spurts of his semen in her cunt. She smiled, pleased that she had once again caused her son to orgasm, this time emptying his seed into her womb. She knew she would enjoy teaching him how to control his climaxes so as to enhance his pleasure, and hers. But she was satisfied for now. Jean helped her son to his feet and knelt before him. With her hot tongue, Jean proceeded to lick her son. She cleaned the remnants of his cum from his cock.

She loved the mixture of tastes...cum, pussy and pee. Even on her knees, she was tall enough to lick her pee from his chest. She lingered on his tiny nipples, loving their hardness. Finally she kissed him full on the mouth. Tommy hugged his mother. Jean rose and switched the control, causing the shower to rinse them both off.

"Here's the soap honey. You wash up and I'll go change the bed".

Jean left him to bathe, and went to prepare his bed. "Ah, what the heck", she said to herself, "I'll do that tomorrow. Tommy can sleep with me tonight". The very idea made her knees weak.

Tommy & his Mum, part 3: An Item

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published by Tom | http://www.asstr.org/~tinytom

Jean's goodbye kiss on her son's lips was more lingering than the ones she had given on previous school days. Considering the weekend they had just shared, how could it have been the same? It was hard to send Tommy to school.

She had dreaded this moment all Sunday, not wanting to think of being in the house without him. What had started as tender, yet thoroughly depraved acts between mother and son, had grown into an infatuation. Jean had spent every moment since finding him weeping in his urine soaked bed early Saturday morning slowly, but surely, becoming her son's lover.

Truthfully, more than just his lover. The acts they committed together were more than lovemaking. They were an immersion into a perversity that Jean could have never imagined. Yes, she had intercourse with him. And had pleasured his small penis with her mouth. She had even given him a brief taste of her vagina, brief only because the tentative, unpractised licks he made had sent her into an immediate orgasm that caused him to shy from her until she reassured her baby that it was pleasure, not pain, that made her cry out so.

But Jean had also tasted and drank his urine, and his prepubescent seminal fluid. And he had willingly drunk her pee, too. Suckled at her breasts, caressed and explored her body with his small hands and cool, sweet mouth. Every thing she suggested, he did. Every curiosity she had concerning his body, Jean explored. This was not sex in the way Jean had always considered sex to be. This was a sharing of all that was her son, and all that was her: a meshing of mother and son.

Finally, last night, Jean had let her tongue venture to her son's tiny, puckered anus. He was lying on his stomach on the living room floor, propped on his elbows and engrossed in his math homework.

Despite the perverse nature of what they had experienced over the weekend, Tommy had the presence of mind to remember his responsibilities. Funny, Jean thought, he was in some ways more mature than her at that moment. She would have been contented to submerse herself in the pleasure that now filled her very being. But Tommy was intent on not displeasing his teacher, whom he respectfully just called Miss Emily.

Remembering the stern, disapproving tone of his teacher's voice the few times she had talked to Miss Emily, explaining either the reason for an absence or an incomplete assignment, Jean understood her son's desire to complete his homework.

The one time she met Miss Emily, at the open house, Jean found her intimidating, but impressed with the obvious respect she commanded from her students, their parents and the other teachers. Still, Jean was feeling a little petulant over sharing her son's attention.

This was how much their relationship had changed, in her mind for the better. Yes, they were mother and son, but also lovers. Where before she would have left him to concentrate, she now attempted to distract him, much in the way she would distract her husband, Martin, when he would be engrossed in some silly ball game on TV. Jean massaged Tommy's shoulders. Undaunted when he shrugged off her touch, she let her fingers trace down his back, enjoying the cool smoothness of his skin.

Jean, ignoring his shy protests, had insisted they remain naked, wanting him to become comfortable with their bodies. Her hand reached his buttocks and she sharply inhaled as she marvelled at how firm they were. Jean was overcome with the urge to kiss her son's ass. With a small moan, she lowered her head and planted a firm kiss on one cheek. Not content to kiss, she nibbled and licked his butt, first one side then the other.

This pleasure she had discovered their first night together, when she explored her son's sleeping body with her mouth. She had licked around his hole for a fleeting second before he turned over in his sleep. Jean had ventured there since, but this was still one place on Tommy's body that he protected, deftly moving from her mouth when it came close to his anus. This time she placed her hand firmly on his back, anticipating his withdrawal.

Quickly she thrust her tongue between his cheeks, probing through the clenched muscles for his hole. When she found it, she forced her tongue inside her boy. This time, Tommy didn't resist. Instead he slightly spread his legs, allowing her easier access. Jean encountered a taste she didn't quite expect.

She had probed into her husband's ass on several occasions, but he had always been careful to make sure he was very clean. Tommy had apparently been less than careful about wiping after his most recent bowel movement, and the smell and taste of the remnants he had left filled her nose and mouth.

It was not entirely unpleasant. Like his pee, this was another part of her son she knew she must share. While she wasn't sure if she was ready to go so far as to join him when he shat, she broadened her tongue and began lapping at his ass, intent on cleaning her baby boy.

Tommy groaned at the unfamiliar wetness on his asshole, succumbing to the undeniable pleasure it brought. When she was satisfied that he was clean, Jean licked her index finger and attempted to insert it into his tight hole. When Tommy squirmed and tightened his muscles once again, she tried her pinky finger. Rotating it, she was able to work it in to the second knuckle. Feeling him finally relax, she leaned on one elbow and enjoyed the sight of his ass as it stretched ever so slightly to allow her access. Not wanting to hurt him, she withdrew her finger and tasted it, loving the muskiness that lingered there.

"Are you ok baby?", she whispered.

"Yes Mummy...that felt very nice. Not at first, but I got used to it", he replied.

"Would you like to touch my bottom?", she asked hopefully.

Tommy's brow furrowed as he considered her question. Then he turned over and sat up, looking at his mother's naked body as it lay curled up beside him. At the urging of his touch on her shoulder, Jean turned and laid on her stomach.

Anticipation welled within her as she felt her son's hand lightly stroke her bottom. He kneaded her soft flesh, then placed his other hand on the opposite cheek. Tommy moved between her legs, which she spread a bit to allow him to rest comfortably between them. Tommy's hands spread her cheeks and Jean felt cool air on her asshole. For what seemed like an eternity, Tommy peered at his mother's hole.

Jean closed her eyes, waiting for his next move. She bit her bottom lip as she felt the wetness of his tongue as he leaned and put the tip against her puckered muscle. He drew back, paused, and then returned. His tongue explored around her ass. He nibbled and licked, just as she had done to his. Jean raised her hips, silently inviting him to the centre of her ass.

The pleasure that had been building in her exploded when he suddenly stuck his tongue as deep as it would go into her ass. Jean came, just as she had several times that weekend...in wave after wave. Her mind blacked out as she gave in to the feeling that filled her body. When she recovered, Tommy was nestled in her arms. She kissed him, tasting her ass on his mouth. He smiled sweetly and they both drifted off into a light sleep.

Now, as she watched Tommy skip down the sidewalk towards school, Jean was suddenly overwhelmed with shame and bewilderment over what they had done together that weekend. What was she doing, she thought.

She was filled with anxiety that she had permanently warped her son. That he would not experience a normal, healthy childhood as a result of her actions. The feeling of shame was enhanced by her sudden urge to masturbate. She should feel revulsion, but the memory of the last two days only made her intensely horny. Without thinking, her hands were clawing between her legs.

Samding at her back door, she shamelessly tore at her wet cunt, rubbing and assaulting it. She came standing up, her robe barely covering her as she supported herself with her hand against the door. With horror, she looked up to see her neighbour approaching the door, cup of coffee in her hand. Luckily she was inspecting the flowers along the walk and didn't see Jean struggle to cover herself.

That nosy wench would be telling everyone she saw Jean diddle herself while watching the neighbourhood kids go off to school. Jean withdrew into the kitchen, frantically composing herself into some sense of normalcy. A normalcy that she would never find again.

Tommy & his Mum, part 4: Suspicions

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published by Tom | http://www.asstr.org/~tinytom

Luckily for Jean, her neighbour Katie lingered admiring the posies on the sidewalk before knocking on the back door. This allowed her a few minutes to compose herself from the self-induced orgasm she experienced as she leaned against that same door and watched her son skip away to school.

Jean washed the sticky pussy juice from her hand, then splashed cold water on her face. Wrapping her terry cloth robe around her otherwise naked body, Jean stumbled to answer Katie's knock, her knees still a little weak.

Resigned to the fact that Katie would not be rebuffed by any excuse that Jean might offer to prevent Katie from coming in to her kitchen, Jean murmured a hello and opened the door. As usual, Katie brushed by her and headed straight for an empty chair at the kitchen table.

Turning towards her neighbour, Jean saw Katie's jaw drop even before she could start in on the inevitable stream of gossip that usually flows from her mouth.

"Honey, you look terrible. Are you feeling ok?"

"What do you mean?" Jean replied defensively.

"You look like you haven't slept in days".

Katie was right. Jean had stayed up every night since Friday, catching only the occasional nap. She had lain next to her son, Tommy, caressing and exploring his body, even as he slept. She had memorized the indications that he was ready to pee, and she watched for these to prevent him from wetting the bed. Tommy would stir, then turn onto his back.

He would emit a nearly inaudible sigh. Jean would patiently wait for these signs and when they occurred, she would quickly pull back his covers and lower her head to his retracting penis. The anticipation would cause wetness between Jeans legs, which only increased when she spared a hand to rub her pussy. When the pee shot from her son's small penis, Jean would make a grateful sound and close her mouth on his cock, not allowing a drop to escape her mouth.

Jean would swallow every drop of her baby's salty liquid waste, then lick him clean before covering him back up. Drinking Tommy's urine had quickly become such an addiction that Jean would not sleep in fear of missing a drop. Jean knew she also must look a wreck. Other than rinsing off when she joined Tommy in the shower, she hadn't bathed all weekend. The shower episodes were mainly to scrub her boy. She discovered that she enjoyed mixing bathing him with a close inspection of his body, making sure every nook and cranny was clean.

Her favourite thing was to cover her pinky finger with a soapy washcloth, then gently ream her baby boy's tight little anus. She lingered there more than was necessary, but Tommy's coos of delight confirmed his enjoyment of this ritual. But Jean avoided scrubbing herself. She had developed a perverse liking of the faint smell of Tommy's urine on her body. Several times she caught herself licking a finger, or her arm, enjoying the faint salty taste that lingered there.

Kate smelled it, too. She wrinkled her nose and said "Hmmm... I smell pee".

Flustered, Jean stammered "Oh, it's...it's nothing. Tommy wet his bed. You must smell his sheets in the laundry room".

"Bed wetter, huh? My Owen did that. Just stopped last year. What a hassle!"

"I don't mind, really. Tommy's such a sensitive boy, I just try to keep his bed as dry as possible".

Jean calmed a bit. She felt Katie had bought her excuse. Instead of feeling ashamed at this deception, her nipples became hard at the thought of the depraved acts she was covering up.

Just knowing that this nosy neighbour thought she was such a prude, when in fact Jean was performing possibly the most perverted acts imaginable, excited Jean. She loved her newfound personality ...nasty, son fucking, pee drinking, shit hole licking slut. But only for her baby...her Tommy. Jean began thinking of ways to get rid of Katie.

She was dying to go lie in Tommy's bed and masturbate as she rolled in the wet sheets that were still there. What Katie smelled was Jean, and now that her attention was draw there, Jean realized how strong the remains of Tommy's pee that he had discharged on her breasts just before breakfast smelled even now. She quietly slid her chair away from Katie, not willing to go wash it off, only wanting to keep the scent from her. What Katie said next pricked her ears.

"When Owen was a baby he peed on my face several times as I changed his diaper. Little devil would catch me not paying attention and let loose. Just lay there giggling as he sprayed me. I loved watching him laugh like that so much I just let him go. I even got kinda used to it, even taking off my blouse and bra to keep them from getting soaked."

Jean feigned shock. "Katie...that's disgusting!".

"Not at all. It was just pee, and he was soooo cute, giggling like that. Besides, it was so warm. It really felt nice. I kinda miss it. I must confess ...I've allowed more than one lover pee on me. It's a real turn on, if you know what I mean". She punctuated that last remark with a knowing wink.

"I certainly do not!" Jean replied. She was not comfortable talking to Katie like this. Her neighbour often bragged about her sexual exploits and Jean thought she was no more than a cheap tramp. Now, realizing that they shared a similar taste, Jean felt no better than Katie...the depraved feelings that excited her earlier now made her feel sick. She wanted her to leave.

"Katie, I have chores to do. I won't get them done yapping with you."

Katie arose with a smirk, saying, "I bet I touched a nerve, huh? Been thinking similar thoughts, Miss Priss?"

Jean grew furious. "Just because you sleep with anything with two legs, doesn't give you the right to come here with your dirty thoughts Katie. Please leave now."

"OK, ok ...I'll go. Don't get into such a huff!".

After Katie left, Jean burst into tears. She was no better than her. In fact, she was worse. A wanton, incestuous slut who was infatuated with her son. And the feeling of longing she felt for him now was stronger than before her neighbour's visit.

She needed the comfort of his body next to hers, needed the reassurance she felt when he responded to her attentions with moans of pleasure. She needed to feel what she felt the night before, that even though what they had shared was forbidden by society, it was a natural action of special bonding between mother and son. Jean immersed herself in her housework, trying to drive the sick feeling from her mind.

After a few hours, Jean felt better. The house was squeaky clean, all the laundry was done and she had just finished toweling herself off after a luxurious bath. She had even been thinking of what Katie had told her.

While bathing, Jean fell into a half-sleep. A vision, close to a dream, filled her mind. Her husband, Martin, and she had finished making love. The type of love making that always occurs after he's returned from sea... wild, animal sex. Completely the opposite of her prim personality. Except this time, in her vision, Martin stood over her and pissed all over her body.

When Jean awoke, she found herself masturbating furiously, cuming at the thought of her conservative husband violating her that way. Jean felt like a Pandora's box of perverse passion had been opened in her mind. Thoughts that would have never been there now filled it. Sated, yet a little troubled by the fading memory of her half-dream, Jean finished drying herself and decided to take a nap.

Looking at the clock, she saw that she had a little less than an hour before Tommy returned from school. She smiled a little, amazed at her transformation. She looked forward to him coming home just as she longed for Martin's return from sea.

Tommy came home to a quiet house. He grabbed a Coke from the fridge and drained it. Even in his youthful state, Tommy instinctively felt the urge to drink fluids because they contributed to the pleasures he and his mother now shared. He had experienced a good day at school. Somehow he felt more confident, even standing up to one of the many bullies who picked on him.

Even Ms. Emily, his teacher, didn't seem quite so intimidating. He even earned her praise for the paper he wrote the night before, written as his mother distracted him with her sweet caresses. Tommy looked around the house, wondering where his Mum could be.

She was usually waiting for him after school with a snack and hug. He went down the hall and peeked into his bedroom. Not there. He continued to his parent's room and there she was, sleeping. Her nude body was partially covered by sheet. It covered one breast but the other was fully exposed to Tommy. He quickly felt his small penis grow hard in his school shorts.

Oh, how he had tried hard to suppress thoughts of their weekend as the school day wore on. Now those thoughts overwhelmed him as he sought his hardness with his hand. Rubbing his member through his shorts, Tommy fell into the trance like state that he had resided in nearly all weekend.

Once again, youthful lust consumed him. He moved closer to his sleeping mother and quietly pulled back the sheet, revealing her beautiful, voluptuous body. Her ample bosom rose and fell as she breathed the deep breath of sleep. Her lips were slightly parted, seemingly inviting him to kiss. He obliged, slowly leaning over his mother and pressing his cool lips to her full ones. Using the technique she taught him, Tommy licked them with the tip of his tongue. Jeans lips parted ever so slightly and Tommy pushed his tongue in further. Jean moaned softly and her eyes opened.

"Hi baby", she whispered. She reached up and placed her hand on the back of her son's head. Drawing him closer, she captured the tip of his small tongue and gently sucked it into her mouth. Tommy responded by placing a hand on his mother's breast.

As she sucked his tongue harder, he squeezed harder. Jean moved her hand from his head and searched for his crotch. Finding the hardness she knew was there, Jean began rubbing up and down the short length of her baby's prick. With a deft move, she unbuttoned his shorts and unzipped his fly. His cock sprang from its confinement. Jean grabbed it, closing her fist and began jerking her son off. Releasing his tongue, she instructed him to sit upon her chest.

Jean pressed her breasts together and told Tommy to slide his cock in between them. He complied, awkwardly at first. Lovingly, Jean showed her boy how to keep his penis between her soft flesh and soon he got into a smooth rhythm, sliding his cock in a fucking motion that belied his years. As usual, it wasn't long before Tommy's body shuddered and he came, spurting the clear seminal fluid his mother had come to love.

Due to the position he was in, his cum flew straight into his mother's open mouth. Grabbing his buttocks, Jean pulled him closer, so she could reach the head of his cock with her mouth. She milked the last drops of his semen, then licked around the head, her tongue searching any residual drops.

"Umm baby. You taste so good.", Jean whimpered. Her eyes widened in anticipation as she saw his penis begin the tell tale signs of urination. The Coke he drank, coupled with the Gator Ade he drank on the way home, had found its way to his bladder. His little penis contracted.

"Quick honey. stand over Mummy. stand up and pee on Mummy, please!" Jean begged. Tommy obeyed, standing up and spreading his legs so he could straddle his mother's beckoning body. Grabbing his penis, Tommy sighed as a strong stream of hot piss sprayed from its tip. Jean moaned in delight as the piss hit her face.

Opening her mouth, she gulped down the first mouthful. She writhed as he directed the stream over her tits. Jean spread his pee over her body with her hands, then reached for her yearning pussy. She tore at her cunt, shoving two, three, then four fingers into its wet folds. As her mouth gaped open in pleasure, Tommy loosed yet another stream into her throat. Jean gagged as she tried to swallow it all.

Soon her hair was drenched, but she hardly noticed as the first wave of orgasm washed over her body. Spent, Tommy gazed down with love at his mother's body as she contorted like the bitch in heat that she was. He was so proud to be able to please his mother this way. Tommy fell on his mother and she hugged him close.

He licked his pee from her face, enjoying the taste as much as she. Passion built in Jean once again. She grabbed her son's wrist and directed his hand to her dripping cunt. He began rubbing the little button of flesh she had shown him. Jean wanted more. She closed her fingers over his, forcing them into a small fist.

"Put your hand in me sweetheart. That's right, push harder. Force it in....aaaagggghhhh". Jean grunted as her baby's fist entered her, filling her tight cunt. Stretching even more than her husband's cock.

Tommy caught on quick, twisting and turning his fist. Soon he was buried in his mother to his wrist. Jean grabbed his forearm and guided him into a pistoning motion, showing him how to fuck her pussy. Her free hand found his firm bottom, which cheeks she spread in search of his tight anus hole. Her finger, still slick with her pussy juice, found it and quickly plunged in, not gently like the night before, but rough and deep.

Tommy cried out, but did not pull away; such was his trust in his mother. Jean felt his hole relax and she began to emulate the fucking rhythm of his fist inside her. They continued like that for several minutes, mother and son violating one another. Jeans natural juices allowed Tommy to fist fuck her deep and fast. Jean quit counting the orgasms because they melted into one long, continuous cum.

Her boy's ass was completely pliable by now, and easily accommodated an additional finger. She continued finger fucking his ass even as he finally withdrew his hand from her cunt. She pulled her boy over her face, with him facing the foot of the bed and his knees spread to each side of her upper arms. Withdrawing her fingers, she noticed a small brown stain of his faeces. She licked it off, finding the taste more appealing now.

She then plunged her tongue into his relaxed hole, reaming and cleaning more of the waste she had withdrawn from his rectum. Tommy ground his ass on his mother's face. Her tongue licked under him and found his tight ball sac, which she began sucking. Tommy's erection returned as his mother's mouth moved from his balls, back to his ass and licking everything in between.

He moved back so she could take his cock into her mouth. With a motion that comes natural to all males, Tommy began fucking Jean's wet mouth. The position he was in allowed him to push his entire member, as well as his balls, into her waiting throat. Jean sucked him in with abandon, wanting as much of her boy in her as possible. His fucking motion quickened and she knew he was about to cum.

But this time there was no stopping, no shuddering as before. Tommy came as he thrusted in her mouth, and the semen was slightly thicker this time. Jean struggled to make sure all his sperm went down her throat. She noisily milked him dry, then licked his balls and asshole clean. Spent, Tommy collapsed on his mother, not unlike an adult lover would. Jean, so contented and devoid of any feelings of guilt, fell asleep.

  Tommy & his Mum, part 5: Scat

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published by Tom | http://www.asstr.org/~tinytom

Jean languished in the hot soapy water that filled the very tub where, only a few hours earlier, she had lain spread-eagled as her son relieved his bladder on her quivering body. That had been the culminating moment in what had become the morning pre-school routine she and Tommy had fallen into over the last two weeks.

The day for Jean began as usual when Tommy's wee hour hardness would soften and contract; alerting his mother from the near-sleep vigil she kept all night. Jean felt his small penis change as she rested her cheek against it, making a sandwich of it and his lower abdomen. Almost unconsciously she turned her head to allow her lips to close over her baby's cock and draw it into her mouth.

Just as half its length settled in, Tommy uttered a sigh and a warm gush of his piss filled Jean's mouth. Jean noted that his urine tasted stronger than usual and reminded herself to feel his forehead later, following her mother's intuition that her baby might be coming down with a bug of some sort. But passion overwhelmed concern at that moment.

Her drowsy gulps weren't quick enough to capture Tommy's full flow and quite a bit dribbled down his cock and into a pool beneath his tight ball sac that he captured by closing his legs. Satisfied that Tommy had finished urinating, Jean spread out her tongue and began to clean her son's dick and crotch with slow broad strokes.

She buried her face between his thighs and slurped the pee that had collected there. After finishing Jean slowly kissed and licked up Tommy's torso, pausing to nibble at his tiny hard nipples. Continuing, she traced her tongue along his shoulder and up the nape of his neck. Settling her wet mouth in his ear Jean whispered "Good morning my precious boy", following her words with a snaking tongue. Her son giggled as the warm wetness tickled his ear.

"Good morning Mummy. I love you", Tommy said sweetly the words that always warmed Jean's heart, not to mention her crotch.

She loved her son, too, more than she had thought possible. Of course it was more than just the normal mother-son bond. Yes, she still maintained her status as care giver and disciplinarian (not that discipline had been necessary the past weeks) while Tommy remained the eight-year-old boy he was, but they were lovers in the most perverse, depraved way imaginable.

Partly due to her guidance and partly due to his natural male instincts, Tommy had developed into quite the lover. Jean had directed him to her erogenous zones and instructed him on arousal techniques. Her son learned his lessons well. No spot on her body was left unexplored.

He had more control over his ejaculations, which, coupled with his boundless reserve of youthful energy, allowed lengthy intercourse sessions. Jean adapted well to his small penis, and had come to love the way it would squirm around, exploring every nook and cranny of her vagina.

They shared every drop of body fluid. Tommy copied his mother's nastiest act for the first time a few nights ago when he stuck his middle finger deep into her rectum, then licked the shit that greased his finger and the rim of her sphincter...thus closing the circle on their shared debauchery. But of all they did, her favourite moments were during the after glow of their lovemaking, cuddling and whispering sweetness to each other.

Tommy drew his arms around Jean's shoulders and turned to kiss his mother. While still maintaining the sweetness of a son's good morning kiss with his mother, Tommy had begun to exhibit a bit more aggressive behaviour, but only when initiating sex.

It no longer required Jean's urging to spur more sex. Now Tommy pressed his lips firmly on his mother's, then parted them with the small point of his tongue. Jean responded with her own and they meshed into a long, slow French kiss.

Her son intermingled licks with nibbles of her tongue and lips. She moaned as he repeated his new trick of sucking her tongue into his mouth. Jean opened her mouth wider and plunged her tongue deep into her baby's tight throat, taking care not to gag him. As they kissed Tommy's hands roamed along her shoulders and back in caresses that seemed to come from a mature lover.

He noted that his mother had shifted her position slightly, spreading her legs and sliding her hips forward so as to rub her warming pussy against his awakening cock. Breaking their kiss, Jean slid forward more to allow her cunt to reach the spot it yearned for. Tommy found her full, slightly sagging, breasts on each side of his face. He squeezed them together with his hands, forcing her large nipples close enough together to allow him to take one, then the other, into his mouth with minimal movement of his head. Tommy's tender suckles on his mother's stiff nipples elicited a moan from deep in her throat and his hard squeezes of her breasts started her hips into a grinding motion as she rubbed her pussy, now dripping with juices, against his hard little cock.

Taking care not to press her full body weight on her son's slight frame, Jean bowed her back in such a way so that only her lewdly humping cunt was against his dick and her pendulous breasts swayed just in touch with his slurping mouth. After raising her hips ever so slightly, Tommy's prick sprang from its confinement against his lower belly and the head now poised against the slightly parted outer lips of her dripping cunt, awaiting her downward thrust that he had come to expect in their morning ritual.

Jean lowered as if on cue and sighed as she felt his small stiff hardness opening her vagina. Tommy raised his own hips a bit as he felt his mother's inner muscles attempting to grip and draw him in further. He began a slow circle with his hips, which caused his cock to rotate within her cunt. Jean rose up while increasing her pussy's hold on her son's member, and then lowered again, taking his full length as deep inside her as possible.

They repeated this cycle over and over, quickening the pace as each built towards their orgasmic goal. Soon Jean was bucking on her little pony, crying out as his nibbles on her breasts turned into gnaws then outright bites as excitement overwhelmed caution.

One particularly fierce bite drove Jean into her first orgasm. Slamming her pelvis on her son's cock, she gripped and rode his cock, crying "Fuck me Tommy...ohh, yes, fuck your Mummy harder". Tommy's replies were more bites on her sore nipples and quicker thrusts of his dick.

The speed of his motion had become nearly a blur. Jean had positioned her cunt to maximize the friction against her clit as his cock angled into it. Suddenly Tommy pushed in to the hilt as he joined her in her second orgasm, squirting his semen in a joined flow of sexual juices.

Their sexual activity had increased his seminal production so much that she was able to feel the warmth of his seed as it filled her cunt. A post-orgasmic shudder ran through their bodies in unison as Jean used her talented pussy muscles to milk the lingering drops from her boy's softening penis. The day for Jean began as she released him from her vaginal grip and scooted down to smother his face with motherly kisses.

Tommy, ever the young pragmatist, whispered through her kisses "I'd better take my shower Mummy or I'll be late for school. Ms. Emily scolded me yesterday for being tardy so often".

"Well we mustn't upset Miss Emily. Up you go" she replied wryly. Was it jealousy, she wondered, causing the tiny feeling of resentment she always experienced when he mentioned the teacher he so obviously admired and respected? Nonsense, she told herself. But the feeling always lingered.

Jean took her son by the hand and led him to the bathroom. Turning on the shower and testing the temperature, Jean stepped in and lowered into her customary seat, legs extended and spread to allow room for Tommy to stand before her. After soaping a washcloth, she smiled up at her son as she began to wash his lower legs.

Tommy shampooed his hair as his mother scrubbed up his calves and thighs, pausing to scrub his penis with extra care. She turned her palm up and urged his thighs apart to clean his groin. Continuing up, she cleaned his torso, arms and finally his neck and face. He was still not too tall for her to reach and clean his ears. With a slight pat on his thigh, she urged him to turn around.

This time she started at the back of his neck and scrubbed his shoulders, down his back and over his tight buttocks. Closing the cloth over her extended index finger, she placed it at the top of his ass crack and ran it down the crevice. Tommy stilled after spreading his legs in anticipation of this most personal of attentions. Jean pushed the fabric-covered finger around his puckered sphincter, enjoying the sight of its reflexive tightening.

Unable to resist, Jean removed the cloth and grabbed each cheek with a hand and spread them apart. She leaned forward to lick her son's hole. The familiar musky smell and taste greeted her senses as she swabbed his ass with her tongue. The muscle relaxed and her wet tongued pushed into his anus. Deeper she went, until her lips were closed around the hole. Jean tongue fucked her son's shithole, and seemed to try to suck him inside out on the withdrawal strokes.

"Oh Mummy, I'm gonna poop" he gasped. These words spurred even deeper thrusts as Jean searched for the taste of his shit that she had come to crave every morning. She felt the muscles of his rectum expand and contract as they pushed his waste to its exit.

Then the tip of his morning turd reached her tongue. She groped with her tongue for a taste, withdrawing it with just a bit on the tip, which she ran over her lips, savouring the taste and texture of her boy's excrement. She loved watching her son's anus stretch to allow his shit to pass. Jean quickly pushed her breasts together to catch the small turd as it dropped from his ass.

It made a perfect landing right in the middle and she rubbed her big tits together to spread his shit over them. Jean returned her mouth to clean his hole, sucking the remnants of his bowel movement from within and reaming the outside to complete her son's bath.

Jean reclined in the tub, then bent and spread her legs into a lewd position. Her hands began to spread Tommy's shit over her abdomen and the down between her thighs. Tommy turned to see his mother rubbing his poop over her spread cunt like the bitch in heat that she had truly become.

"See how much Mummy loves you Tommy? See how she'll do anything for you baby? Mummy loves rubbing your shit in her cunt, don't you see honey?". Jeans voice had turned into a lascivious growl, spewing the nastiest thought imaginable to her beloved son.

Tommy smiled down on the mother he loved. He loved every facet of her personality that she had revealed to him over the past weeks...loving mother, wonderful cook, doting companion, helpful tutor and, oh yes, wanton slut.

"Mummy wants your pee baby. Please, I know you need to pee now. Please pee on Mummy" Jean begged as her hands clawed and pulled on her flaming, shit covered cunt. She wanted, needed, to wallow in her son's waste. Needed his defilement and degradation as confirmation that she was the sex slut for her son that she craved to be.

Tommy complied as usual, grabbing his prick and aiming in anticipation of the flow that was soon to come. He sighed, and Jean moaned, as the hot stream, darker in colour than before, flew from his dick and hit directly into her gaping mouth. As she swallowed, he redirected his aim to her tits, giggling as it mixed with the streaks of shit into a flow down her stomach.

Jean pulled her knees towards her shoulders and raised her hand-spread cunt. Tommy shot his remaining piss into her hole and she quickly blurred two fingers from each hand, trying to mix his pee with her cunt juices and his shit. Her cunt made sloshing noises as Jean exploded into a tremendous orgasm, her back arching, as she seemed to be trying to rip her cunt open.

As she shuddered into a calmer state, Tommy nonchalantly rinsed his body and stepped out. Leaning to kiss her mother's sweating forehead, Tommy said "I'm going to get dressed Mummy. You should rinse up and make breakfast. We're running late, you know". His maturity made Jean smile, but it was several minutes before she could move.

With weak knees Jean struggled to her feet. After a quick rinse she dried off, threw on her robe and stumbled to the kitchen. She had to take a minute to lean against a counter to steady herself.

More composed she prepared Tommy's breakfast. Just as she put his soft-boiled egg, toast and orange juice on the table her son came into the kitchen dressed in his school uniform, white shirt, blue tie and khaki shorts. Sitting down to join her son at the table Jean felt a small pang of guilt as she was once again reminded that despite his talents as a mature lover, Tommy was just an eight-year-old boy.

Her old fear that she was somehow ruining the innocence of his youth resurfaced. These thoughts were driven from her mind when Tommy's hand found its way to her thigh under the table. Without looking at her he pushed the robe aside and slid the hand towards her crotch.

"No honey, you mustn't start. You said yourself you don't want to be late again".

"I know Mummy. I just like the way your skin feels, so soft".

Jean smiled and reached for his forehead. It was warm. "Do you feel ok sweetheart? I think you may be coming down with something. Perhaps you should stay home from school today".

"Oh no Mum. I'm ok, and I can't miss my math test today. Ms. Emily hates giving make-ups".

"She would understand, but off you go. Call me if you feel sick later, ok?" she said as she gave his knee a quick squeeze.

Tommy rose and gave his Mum a quick kiss on the lips. "I'll be fine Mum. I'll see you this afternoon. Remember that I'm going to piano practice after school".

"Ok sweetheart. Come right home after, ok? It will almost be dark. I love you".

"I love you too", he said over his shoulder as he bounded out the door, book bag in tow.

After wistfully watching her son until he disappeared around the corner of the house Jean started in on her daily chores. First washing the breakfast dishes, then on to the bedroom to strip the sheets from her, no, their bed. Despite Jean's careful attentions to Tommy's urinary urges, some wetness always found its way to the sheets, requiring daily laundering.

As usual Jean couldn't resist holding the wet sheet to her face, smelling and sucking the remnants of her son's piss. Often there was enough to allow her to coat her face and breasts with his salty fluid. Most days she would refrain from washing, choosing to enjoy the faint scent as a reminder of their shared depravity.

With all her chores finished Jean laid on the freshly made bed and quickly fell into a deep sleep. Her dreams were troubled. She dreamt of her husband Martin's return from sea, scheduled only two short months away.

The subconscious thoughts of six months without Tommy's presence in her bed, six months without the sweet, sick love making with her son caused her to toss and turn. Jean dreamed of a return to sex with Martin. Before Tommy, she had thought Martin's rough attentions were satisfying. Now she knew that they were designed for his pleasure, his alone.

Only in the first hours when they were together did she achieve orgasm, more from the frustrations of six months of abstinence, save for the occasional moments with her toys, than from his sexual techniques. They were so predictable. The rough handling of her breasts, which brought more pain than pleasure.

The crude insertion of his thick fingers in her starved cunt. When he ate her pussy he seldom paid the careful attention to her clit that Tommy had become so adapt at. Martin's habit of grabbing her hair and shoving her mouth towards his huge uncircumcised penis was the ultimate display of his preoccupation with self-gratification. He gave her no time to enjoy fellatio, instead forcing his cock into her throat, ignoring her gags as he quickly emptied his unpleasant tasting cum into her mouth.

Unlike Tommy's mild tasting semen, Martin's was so distasteful she struggled to swallow his copious flow as quickly as possible, before the taste caused her to repeat the experience of her first blow job she gave him, which was to promptly vomit all over him. Intercourse was thankfully brief, yet always painful. Anal sex was no better as Martin didn't seem satisfied unless he caused tears to well in her eyes. Before Tommy, Jean thought this was enjoyable sex.

Now the thought of sleeping with her husband disgusted Jean. The only comforts were knowing that Martin seldom requested sex after his first weekend home, and also the knowledge that he would be leaving for work early enough most mornings to at least allow her to enjoy a pre-school bath and toileting with her son.

Jean's troubled sleep was disturbed by the harsh ringing of the telephone. Fumbling for the bedside phone, Jean answered with a husky "Hello?"

"Is this Mrs. Jennings?" a familiar voice asked.

"Yes, who is this please?" Jean replied, struggling to recall the owner of the voice.

"This is Mrs. van Haankden".

"Mrs. van... oh yes, Miss Emily!"

"Ms. Emily, yes that's how I allow my students to address me" was the disapproving reply.

Jean's concern for the reason for the call overcame her annoyance at Tommy's teacher's rebuff. "Is something wrong with Tommy?"

"There is a slight problem. Could you please come by the school and bring a change of clothes for Thomas? He's had an accident."

"Accident? My lord, is he hurt?"

"No Mrs. Jennings, not that kind of accident. Please come and we can discuss the incident in person. And please do not forget the clothes. I'll see you soon. Till then, good-bye".

The sharp click as Tommy's (Thomas? She never called him that. Only Martin did, when Tommy angered him) teacher hung up took Jean aback. This was obviously a woman who was used to being obeyed. Without thinking Jean sprung from her bed and headed to grab a quick shower, then dressing in as short time as possible.

Thoughts of what could have happened to her little darling clouded her mind during the short drive to his school. In the back of her mind she already knew. Tommy had surely wet his pants. While the idea of getting him home and cleaning him with her mouth made a smile creep across her mouth, the possible reasons for why it happened worried Jean.

Jean hurried to Tommy's classroom. Entering she found it empty save for Mrs. van Haankden, whose head was bent to the task of scoring some test papers. Seeing Jean she arose and offered her hand. Jean took it, noting the firm grip as the teacher fixed a steely gaze into her eyes.

"That was quick Mrs. Jennings. I'm glad you were prompt".

"Where is Tommy?" Jean asked.

"He's fine. He's taking a nap in that side room. I have a cot there for such occasions. Please have a seat Mrs. Jennings".

Jean complied. "Please call me Jean".

"Ok Jean", she replied, but made no return offer of such familiarity.

Jean was suddenly aware of the too casual nature of the clothes she had chosen while observing her son's teacher. Ms. Emily was dressed in a starched white blouse, buttoned to the top. Her wool skirt was pressed to perfection and grey hose covered what leg she could see from the bottom of the skirt hem to her sensibly heeled shoes. Her blonde hair was pulled into a severe bun that seemed to pull her pinkly scrubbed face tight.

In contrast Jean had thrown on a sleeveless top that revealed a bit too much cleavage. The shorts she chose now seemed inappropriately short and the sweat from her hurried walk from the car now mingled with her still wet hair. In short, Jean felt rumpled. The teacher's eyes seemed to scan over her in appraisal.

"Thomas wet his pants. He had fallen asleep in class and as I went towards him to awaken him I noticed the stain on his shorts. It was near the end of class so I dismissed the other children so I could arouse him without embarrassment. Falling asleep is very unusual for him. He is normally very alert and attentive. He is also running a fever. Has he been sleeping well?"

"Yes, very well. But he has had some recent episodes of bed wetting".

"I suspected as much. This is not uncommon. Does it happen often?"

"Yes, recently anyway. It seems to happen when his father is away".

"Mrs. Jennings, Jean, it may be helpful to develop a toilet routine. Simple discipline can often be the answer".

As the teacher mentioned discipline Jean noticed that her posture became even straighter and a glint come to her eye. Also, Jean was sure that she saw the unmistakeable evidence of hardening nipples through her starched blouse. These things caused Jean to squirm in her seat. Suddenly she wanted to gather her son and go home.

"I am fully aware of how to take care of my son. This will not happen again, I assure you". Jean wished she felt as confident as her words.

"Perhaps Jean. Children need structure, to be on a schedule. Please revisit your methods. I am available any time should you need any advice. I have had the same experience with my son. It is no longer a problem", Ms Emily said haughtily. Her eyes betrayed the obvious pleasure she gained from Jean's discomfort.

Jean arose from her chair and strode towards the door behind the teacher's desk. Opening it she found her precious Tommy, asleep with his thumb in his mouth. He was naked under a blanket and his wet clothes were folded neatly in a pile by the bed. She shook him awake and urged his sleepy body to stand.

She could feel the heat of his fever. Fighting the sudden urge to lick at the smell of urine on him, she instead helped him into the dry shorts. The teachers voice startled her.

"Did you undress him?".

"Of course. I couldn't leave him in his wet things, could I? I also took his temperature as he slept. I had to use a rectal thermometer. I trust you don't mind".

Jean was taken aback at the thought. "No... I... I guess not, if that was the only way possible. I appreciate your concern".

He is a bit old for thumb sucking wouldn't agree?"

"Not really", Jean retorted. She had grown tired of this woman's opinions. "Thank you for your consideration of Tommy's embarrassment Mrs. van Haankden. We'll be going now".

"Of course Jean. Thomas is one of my best students. I hope this incident isn't a precursor to further troubles".

"I doubt it. Good-bye".

Emily van Haankden barely allowed enough room in the doorway for Jean to pass. Their bodies brushed together and for a brief moment, their eyes met. Jean froze, captivated by the teacher's stare. There was compassion there, but also a sense of control. Jean inhaled sharply. Only then did Emily's eyes drop, in time to see Jean's breasts swell and the suddenly hard nipples push against her top.

Jean was sure she saw Emily's tongue flick along the inside of her upper lip. And there was something else. She could detect the faint scent of urine on her son's teacher. She supposed this was unavoidable, considering that she undressed him from his stained clothes. Still, Jean couldn't help but feel a bit jealous that another woman had come in such close contact with her son, her lover.

"Goodbye Jean. I think we will see each other soon".

"Yes...I suppose we will", Jean replied in a near whisper. She had no idea why she said that, only that she knew it was true. There was something about Tommy's teacher that made Jean know she would get her way.

Jean pulled Tommy by the hand in a rush to the car. Safely in, she sped away. Tommy moved to his mother and began weeping.

"It's ok honey. There, there". She smiled as her son nestled his face against her still aroused breast. His hand crept up her thigh and rested just under the bottom of her shorts. Jeans free hand inched its way down his torso before easing it under his waistband so she could caress his bottom.

Her middle finger traced between his crack, causing a mental image of his teacher's hand also being near that very spot.

"We'll be home sweetie. Mummy will make you feel better when we get there".

Oh yes, much much better. Something about the visit with the teacher had left Jean confused, but undeniably horny. She pressed on the accelerator, anxious to get home. She hoped that he wouldn't be too ill to enjoy the warped love she was anxious to show him. If not, she knew she would be satisfied to let him sleep as she explored his body with her hands and mouth. That thought changed her mind...now she hoped he would sleep.

Tommy & his Mum, part 6: Accident

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published by Tom | http://www.asstr.org/~tinytom

Troubled though she was by Tommy's fever and pants wetting episode at school, Jean couldn't deny the sexual arousal that had visited her.

There was something about Tommy's teacher's, Miss Emily, demeanour that had brought this on. The domineering look and manner with which she addressed Jean had made her uncomfortable and want to leave, but also stirred a feeling that she couldn't quite describe. When she brushed close by the teacher as she led Tommy from that side room, she unconsciously knew that if Emily had demanded that she stay, she would have been powerless to refuse.

Thankfully, Miss Emily had not done so. Now, despite her concern for her son's health, Jean could not resist the temptation to let her hand explore her son's feverish body as she drove to her house.

Her hand slid under the waistband of the clean shorts she had brought from home (remembering the forceful way that Miss Emily had instructed her to do so only increased Jean's arousal) and moved to caress his bottom. So firm.

Her finger parted his slim ass cheeks and searched for his tight little hole. What Jean felt surprised her. There was a slick coating around his anus. Withdrawing her hand, Jean half-expected, half hoped, to see traces of the beginning of a wet bowel movement. Given his fever, she wouldn't be surprised if loose bowels would be another symptom of whatever bug he had.

The visual image of Tommy emptying his runny stool on her in the tub made Jeans nipples harden. She was a little disappointed to see only a clear substance on her finger. Smelling it, she saw it for what it was - lubricant. What is going on, she thought. Returning her hand to her son's asshole, she inserted her finger and felt more of the slick substance. His rectum still held more than a little of it.

"Tommy, did Miss Emily touch you here", Jean asked, anger rising in her.

"Only to take my temperature, like you do. And a little when she dried me off".

"But did she do more than that honey?".

"Well, she put something there first. She said it would keep the thermometer from hurting me. She rubbed it around and in me. It worked because I didn't even feel it when she put it in me".

As he told her this, Jean felt how easily her finger slid in and out of her son's usually tight asshole. She was even able to add her middle finger with no resistance at all. Even in her heightened state of arousal, Jean had become furious with Tommy's teacher. She had surely molested him. There was no need of lubrication for a thin thermometer.

She planned to call and confront Miss Emily the minute she got home and settled Tommy in. She wondered if she really had the courage to face down the more dominant woman. She must, this she knew. The prospect frightened her, but she tried to ignore how it also excited her.

Emily at school

Emily had agreed to seconded from her post at the school and accept the third grade teaching job. While she preferred working with the older kids (and their more mature appetites), the opportunity to work, and help mould, younger minds was very appealing. Emily was very big on discipline, and her experience with teenagers convinced her that intervention at a younger age is necessary.

She had enjoyed teaching her own son how to behave and show the proper courtesies and respects. He had responded by becoming the model boy and excellent student. And, a fact that would shock anyone outside her family, her boy was a wonderful lover who shared her bed. More than her bed, as they had a relationship that was similar to Jean and Thomas's.

Yes Emily not only made love with her son, but also drank his piss and ate his. And he hers. Emily would completely understand the closeness Jean felt with her son. What she would disapprove of was Jean's lack of assertive discipline.

Emily had cured her son of bedwetting, and all other signs of undisciplined behaviour. Along with tender sex and joyful toilet sharing, she also conducted training sessions, which included bondage, humiliation and light torture. She felt it was imperative that her boy know and understand his place. He responded wonderfully, always grateful for the lessons learned and aware of the improved quality of his life.

Small signs gave Emily the notion that Jean and Thomas just might share more than the normal closeness between mother and son. Thomas (she disapproved of Jean's use of Tommy as too childish). He was a boy, yes, but also must understand propriety when in the company of adults. He talked glowingly of his mother.

Emily thought this was unusual as most boys his age were distancing themselves from their mother's influence. She had also detected the unmistakable scent of urine on him twice. Both days he had arrived late to school, looking more than a little rumpled and unkempt.

As always in the case of tardy students, she stopped Thomas at the classroom door and scolded him in the hallway. Chagrined, Thomas bowed his head and apologized. Emily noted the smell of pee, and wondered if the boy was a bedwetter. She remembered the same lingering scent on her son before she cured him of that problem. It could be detected even after a good scrubbing, especially if he had slept in his liquid waste all night.

Emily found the incident at school, when Thomas fell asleep and wet his pants in class, interesting. She knew he wasn't feeling well as he was listless and had requested to be excused from recess.

Of course this was not allowed, as Emily felt exercise was important and if a child was well enough to attend school, he should participate fully in all activities.But she wasn't too surprised when he dozed off in class. What was unusual was the peaceful look that crossed his face as he slept.

He sat on the front row and she raised her eyebrow when he uttered a nearly inaudible giggle, then a sigh. Then Emily saw the dark wet spot grow in his crotch. As it spread, she noticed a contented smile spread on Thomas' face. Emily smiled to herself, remembering the same smile on her son's face when he relieves himself on her accepting body. Class time had drawn to an end and Emily decided to act before they noticed Thomas' predicament.

She knew that the frail boy was the target of the bullies in school, and didn't care to provide them with more fodder. Thomas was one of her favourite students and she often looked out for him in these matters. When the room cleared she locked the door. Crossing the room, she knelt by the sleeping boy and gently shook his shoulder.

"Thomas? Wake up young man", she said softly yet sternly. Despite her fondness for the boy, and her sympathy for his current situation, she felt that consistency in her attitude was important.

"Wha...what's wrong ma'am", he uttered sleepily.

"You fell asleep Thomas. And I'm afraid you've wet yourself".

"Oh no", he replied, embarrassed.

"No need to be embarrassed Thomas. But we should get you undressed and call your mother. Come into the side room with me".

Emily arose and walked towards the door to the side of her desk, having no doubts he would follow without protest. Her students always did her bidding, immediately and without so much as a peep of dissent. Tommy followed sheepishly.

After he entered the room she went to lock the classroom door. She doubted anyone would come in as the day was done, but she wanted to insure their privacy. She re-entered the side room and closed that door also. Surprising her pupil, she knelt before him.

"Unbutton your shirt Thomas". He complied. Removing the garment, which was a tad wet at the tail, he revealed a slim chest, which she noted approvingly. Emily enjoyed the sight of a young body. But she hid her admiration as she took it upon herself to unsnap the wet Tommy made a shy motion of protest, but her quick glance stopped him.

"Don't be alarmed Thomas. I have a son your age and have seen other naked young men. Let me get these off you and towel you off".

Tommy dutifully stepped out of the shorts, then the wet jockey shorts that followed. Hidden from Tommy's eyes, she allowed a bemused smile as she noticed his smallish erection. Just like her son, this boy became erect easily. Just the mere touch of another's hands on his garments caused arousal.

Emily took a towel from the nearby shelf and slowly dried the boy's body, taking special care around his genitals. This did nothing to discourage his hardness. Emily smiled again at the way his little cocked twitched at the slight touch of the towel. Afraid that she might lose her self-control and proceed further, Emily urged him to the cot along the wall and covered him with the blanket.

Feeling his forehead, Emily said, "I think you have a fever Thomas. I should take your temperature". She opened a drawer in the table and withdrew a thermometer and a tube of lubricant.

"Turn on your side Thomas. I only have a rectal thermometer".

Tommy's eyes widened at the realization that she would be putting it into his butt. Despite the new relationship he had with his mother, he was still uncomfortable with the idea of anyone but Jean being so familiar. What he and his mom had was special, between them only.

"Don't fret Thomas, it won't hurt. I will apply some lubricant just to be sure. Now turn over", she finished, knowing full well he would comply.

He did, rolling on his side and hiding his face in embarrassment. Emily squeezed a bit of K-Y Jelly on her forefinger and used her other hand to spread the young boy's ass cheeks. She unconsciously licked her lips at the delicious sight of the youngster's tight, puckered asshole.

Fighting the urge to lean over and give it a lick, Emily applied the lubricant to the outer edge of his sphincter muscle. She was surprised to find that, instead of a forbidding tightness, it relaxed almost immediately and allowed her finger easy entrance. She resisted a nearly overwhelming urge to plunge the length of her finger into his rectum, and instead only inserted it a bit, spreading the jelly just inside the opening.

Catching her breath, Emily composed herself and replaced her finger with the thermometer. Making sure Tommy wasn't looking, she quickly tasted her finger, enjoying the musky taste despite the greasy lubricant. After a few minutes she removed the thermometer and relayed the results, 101 F, to Tommy. But he had fallen asleep. He must feel very bad indeed, she thought.

Quickly covering the boy before she gave into the urge to molest him, Emily regained her composure and went to her desk to call his mother. After hanging up, she returned to the room and gathered Tommy's clothes. She couldn't resist the urge to hold his wet underwear to her nose and breathe in deeply. Emily loved the smell of piss, especially a young boy's. She was going to wash after handling his things, but decided to keep the smell on her and enjoy it.

Jean arrived in a tizzy no more than 20 minutes later. Emily affected her most stern manner. The woman seated before her seemed much different than the quiet, conservative mother she had met a few times before. Then, Jean had always dressed and presented herself as the model housewife. Always dressed nicely, but in a June Cleaver way.

Now Jean looked absolutely sexy, in a trampy sort of way. She was wearing tight shorts that revealed much of her attractive thighs. Only sandals adorned her feet. It was her bosom that made Emily struggle to avoid staring at. Jean had thrown on a short-sleeved blouse and had neglected to include a bra. The top two buttons were undone, revealing a nice cleavage that Emily found hard to ignore. Jean was certainly an attractive woman.

Yet Emily maintained an air of reserve and exuded a slightly disapproving air. She was certain that something was happening between mother and son, and she intended to not only eventually become part of it, but also to assert some measure of control over whatever the situation might be.

During their short conversation, Emily made a point of fixing a dominant gaze over the other woman, and saw that it caused the desired results. Jean was clearly nervous, but her nipples betrayed her arousal. The more agitated she got at Emily's cool demeanour, the more Emily could tell she was also somewhat excited. Good, Emily thought. I just want to plant a seed in her mind, she told herself. There is no rush.

As Jean dressed her son, Emily watched, noting the obvious love between them. If, as she imagined, there is more to their relationship than the common mother/son bond, it is surely consensual. Tommy looked at his mother with total love and trust.

As Jean followed Tommy out the side-room door, she was startled to see Emily watching them. Emily looked squarely in her eyes and slightly softened her gaze, wanting to send a message that she can be compassionate, even when in control.

Emily took a deep breath, and suddenly knew that her instincts were correct. There was the faint, yet unmistakable, trace of urine odour that she thought might be present of her pupil's mother. Not the fresh scent one would expect from just handling Tommy's wet clothes, but the ingrained smell of several piss sessions that won't rinse off from just a quick shower.

Emily recognized the difference, for if she allowed anyone to stand close enough to her, they would smell the same. Knowing Jean would notice, Emily allowed her eyes to drop once again to her bosom and enjoy its fullness. At that moment Emily knew that she must have this woman, and her son. Control them, yes, but also teach and love them. She had no doubt they would not regret her intrusion into their comfortable little world.

After mother and son had departed, Emily re-locked the classroom door and went into the side room. Glancing about, she looked for a suitable object for her immediate plans. Her eyes rested on the only thing that came close, cricket bat. Sighing, she told herself that it would have to do. Carrying it to the cot, she laid it down and primly removed her skirt. Carefully folding and laying it on the table, she sat on the cot.

As she let her mind wander to thoughts of Thomas' tight asshole and Jean's ample bosom, Emily removed her sensible white cotton panties. As the image of Thomas's piss hitting the nipples of his mother's nipples, now red and swollen from the alligator clips Emily had applied in her little fantasy, Emily savagely shoved the handle of the bat into her drenched cunt. Biting her lip at the delicious pain of the rough wood invading her pussy, Emily began a hard fucking motion as she spoke to nobody in particular "I'm going to fuck you Jean, you piss drinking slut. Fuck you and your little boy, too. I'll show you things you can't yet even imagine!". Before long Emily collapsed into a wonderful, painful orgasm. In her mind, there is no other kind.

Jean at Home

Jean laid her boy on the bed and undressed him. Somehow, her lust had subsided. It was replaced by a more pure love and care for her son. She lay next to him and soon joined him in sleep.

It was a fitful sleep, filled with a peculiar dream that unsettled her later when she awoke. In the dream Ms. Emily was standing over them as they slept. In her hand was a cricket bat and she was patting it as if she was about to use it.

Instead of fear, Jean felt a sense of inevitability, that she would do whatever this woman said. There was no need of the threat of the bat, but there was a nagging feeling that she hoped she would use it on her in some fashion. And a feeling that whatever it was that the teacher wanted, she would gladly do. This Jean knew.

  Tommy & his Mum, part 7: Wet Dream

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published by Tom | http://www.asstr.org/~tinytom

Jean awoke with a start. Somewhat groggy, she struggled to remember where she was and wondered what time it was. The room was dark and her clothes were drenched in sweat. Her hand reached out and found the sleeping form of her son Tommy. Feeling the heat that emanated from his body, awareness slowly returned.

She had lain next to Tommy after bringing him home from school. The fever that was the reason for coming home from school early had not abated. Poor baby, Jean thought. The fever seemed even worse.

Despite her concern, Jean felt herself become aroused, as usual, as her hand roamed over his clothed body. She suppressed the urge to fondle him, or otherwise initiate sexual activity, deciding instead to let him continue to sleep. But it was an urge that was hard to ignore.

Jean had a memory of a dream she was having before she awoke. The only images she could recall were vague and fleeting, but the dream must have been very erotic because she was sweaty despite the cool room temperature. Also, Jean could feel the unmistakable wetness between her legs, and her hard nipples were visible, even in the dark, through the damp material of her blouse.

A vision of Miss Emily sprang clearly in her mind, and she looked up, half expecting to see her as she remembered in her dream, tapping a cricket bat against her hand, seemingly waiting for Jean to disobey some unspoken command.

The vision disappeared as Jean suddenly felt the need to urinate. In her aroused state a healthy Tommy would have awakened to see his mother lewdly squatting over his face, relieving her bladder into his mouth. Instead Jean reluctantly arose and made her way into the bathroom to empty her bladder using the more conventional method. Undressing as she walked, she realized she must have slept for several hours, as it was also dark outside.

Sitting on the toilet, Jean felt the sweet relief as her piss flowed. Her horny state led her hand between her legs, where it was washed with pee. Feeling it brought a clear image from her dream to her mind's eye. Someone in the dream was peeing on her.

Concentrating on the already fading image, she recognized the source of the piss as the large, thick, uncircumcised cock belonging to her husband, Martin. Strange, she thought, she hadn't thought of him in a sexual manner for weeks. As quick as it had come, the memory was gone.

Somewhat troubled, Jean wiped, then indulged herself by cleaning her piss covered hand with her tongue. Jean had developed a fondness for the taste of her own urine from the many times she had cleaned it from Tommy's body, like a cat, after their depraved lovemaking. Jean stood before the mirror and enjoyed her body with the newfound awareness that had evolved since the twisted love affair with her only son had begun. As she cupped her heavy, ample breasts, another memory from her dream entered her mind.

This time she was back at Tommy's school, walking past his teacher, Miss Emily, as she led her sick son from the room adjacent to Tommy's classroom. Jean had taken notice of the gaze the teacher had fixed on her breasts as she passed close by her. But in the dream, Miss Emily had a hand on each breast, kneading them in a rough fashion while staring with obvious lust into Jean's eyes.

Jean could vividly remember real pain as the teacher gave each nipple a cruel twist as the look in her eyes turned more sadistic. Jean gasped, her hands copying the act as she looked into the mirror, and she continued the massage even as the memory vanished. Somewhat frustrated with her inability to remember more of the dream, and troubled with what the possible interpretations could be, Jean decided to return to bed.

Once again lying next to her son, Jean's hand crept between her legs, answering her pussy's cry for attention. As she began to masturbate, the last image from her dream returned. This time it was her neighbour, Katie, who was rubbing her clit in the identical fashion that Jean was doing at that moment. They were standing by each other in the kitchen. Katie was ridiculing her for denying that she was having sex with Tommy, and rubbing her traitorous cunt in an effort to coax an admission. Jean had started to tell Katie what she wanted to hear, but once again the image vanished as Jean felt an orgasm build within her loins.

Not wanting to awaken her son, Jean bit her lip to suppress the moan that built from her throat as she came. It was nowhere near the intensity achieved when making love with Tommy, but it was satisfying nonetheless. Bringing her wet fingers to her mouth, Jean noticed that her period had started. This new taste (they had not made love during her last cycle, and Jean had never tasted her flow) pleased her and she quietly hoped Tommy would get better in time to share her menstrual blood, something they had not yet experimented with. Jean drifted back to sleep, with the thought that that was the first time she had masturbated since the night she initiated the sick love affair with her son.

Jean dreamed again. This time she was a witness instead of participant. An out of body witness, if you will. The scene unfolding before her caused a thrilling chill in Jean's dreaming persona. She seemed to be floating a few feet off the ground. The Jean she witnessed was lying spread-eagled on the ground in the middle of a forest clearing. Her ankles and wrists were bound to wooden stakes driven into the earth. And she wasn't alone, not even close. She was being used and defiled by a cast of familiar, naked characters. There was her husband Martin, one foot on each side of her head, a stream of hot piss arching from his large cock (massively erect, even while urinating) down on her neighbour Katie's back as she squatted just in front of, and facing away from, Jean's husband.

The piss streamed down between Katie's ass cheeks and joined with a large turd that she was straining to push out and directly onto Jean's face, where a smaller one had already landed. Jean's tongue lapped at the shit, obviously enjoying the taste. Katie's mouth was stuffed full of a cock belonging to the black Marine guard Jean had spied her kissing earlier in the day. Incredibly he was locked in a deep kiss with Martin. Kneeling between Jean's splayed legs was Katie's son, Owen, with a blood streaked arm buried to the elbow in Jean's cunt. He was laughing and calling Jean all manner of degrading names as his arm pistoned in and out of her pussy.

Then Jean saw something that sent a sharp stab of jealousy into the pit of her stomach. Miss Emily was sitting in a large oaken chair, her legs spread over each arm. The chair had short legs, and on all fours before her shaved pussy was precious Tommy.

Miss Emily had a handful of his hair and was forcing his face between her legs. Despite the rough treatment, Tommy emitted mummers of contentment, obviously pleased at the opportunity presented before him, and eagerly began lapping at his teacher's wet cunt.

The hovering Jean was horrified, yet undeniably turned on, at the sight of her son receiving such treatment. Tommy's body was covered with brown streaks of what Jean surmised was shit from at least one, if not all, of the participants. Poised behind his slightly upturned ass was a boy near Tommy's age who bore a striking resemblance to Miss Emily.

ean gasped as he aimed his cock, which had been receiving vigorous strokes from his hand, directly at Tommy's reddened asshole and, at the urging of the teacher, viscously drove it into her boy, causing a pained cry which soon turned to moans of pleasure as the other boy fucked him. Miss Emily urged on the boy Jean guessed was her son, and the thrill she shared with Jean at the sight of mother and son being abused, and loving the abuse, was evident in the wicked smile on her face.

Jean returned her gaze to the defilement she was receiving and marveled at how her body seemed to quiver uncontrollably at the multitude of stimuli being visited upon her all too willing flesh. Jean was overwhelmed with a desire to be the woman on the ground and as soon as that thought developed in her mind, she was.

As Jean's consciousness became that of the woman on the ground, she was immediately overwhelmed by the smells, tastes and feelings her body was subjected to. There was a wonderful mixture of pleasure and pain caused by the young boy´s arm buried in her cunt.

But the pain wasn't sharp, instead a dull ache, leading Jean to realize that the blood was from her menstrual flow rather than the rough fisting. She felt her inner muscles clamp down as best they could, maximizing the friction and pleasure. The second turd pushed out of Katie's lovely stretched asshole and landed squarely in Jean's mouth, which was gaping open as she moaned from the fucking her cunt was receiving. The shit muffled the sound and Jean concentrated on chewing the nasty excrement before it gagged her. Martin's piss flowed off the ass that was only inches from her face and mixed with the shit in her mouth.

The fetid mixture was rubbed all over her face as Katie lowered her ass and used it to spread the evil mixture. At a sharp command from Miss Emily, the males, including Tommy and the boy fucking his ass, stood around Jean in a circle and gripped their cocks. Katie crawled to the teacher and replaced Tommy as the one chosen to orally pleasure her pussy. As if rehearsed, all except Tommy began to masturbate. Tommy looked around confused, as if wondering what to do. Jean felt jealousy once again as her son looked to his teacher, rather than his mother, for guidance.

"Thomas, come back here and clean Katie's asshole" Emily commanded. Of course Tommy quickly complied by going to the upturned ass of the kneeling woman and bending to his assignment. Jean craned her neck as best as possible, trying to watch as her son's tongue began reaming her slut neighbour's shit stained sphincter.

Disappointed when her view was blocked by her kneeling son, Jean settled for the sight of her son's ass, which was only a foot from her face. She noticed the bruising around the hole, the redness from the fucking. There were also bite marks on his ass cheeks. His small cock was hard and Jean longed to take it into her mouth, but it was out of her reach. Jean was distracted as the two men and two boys grunted in unison, then all began ejaculating incredible amounts of semen on her twisting body. Even through the drying glaze of shit, blood and piss she could feel the warmth of their cum as it spilled over every exposed bit of skin.

Jean looked up at the men, wondering what was to come next. She heard Emily command her husband to leash Katie, and the marine to leash the other two boys. Martin secured a dog collar around Katie's neck and the black man did the same to Owen and Miss Emily's son. The two men then walked into the forest, with Katie and the boys following on all fours. Jean could only imagine what was in store for those three.

Once again Tommy looked to his teacher in expectation of his her next command. Jean heard no words, but Tommy crawled around until he was between her splayed legs, then sat down in the dirt. Jean looked up to see the teacher's face hovering over her own.

"My, aren't we a mess Jean" Emily said as she took a finger and cleared shit from Jean's eyes. Emily inspected her finger before leaning forward to offer it to Tommy, who cleaned it eagerly. As she did, she positioned her cunt over Jean's face and proceeded to unleash a hot, strong stream of piss. Jean tried to capture it in her mouth, but Emily moved her hips around. Jean realized that the teacher was cleaning her face.

"There, that's better" purred Miss Emily after finishing her nasty face bath. "I've always preferred the taste of piss over shit" she said as she began licking Jean's face. Her tongue felt wonderful as it explored every inch. As she licked, Emily spoke in a quiet, yet firm, voice.

"Is this what you want dear? I know you think that what you and Thomas are doing is a special thing between you. But I speak from experience. You will want more, much more. And so will he. You must ask yourself if this is what you want, because I can assure you that this is where you're heading.

No, not necessarily like what you're dreaming now, but possibly even worse. If you decide it is, I will be with you ...teach you, guide you, enjoy it with you. We can explore wonderful things together, or you can decide that this is not for you, or Thomas. The decision is yours my love".

With that Emily arose. She gave one final order to Tommy.

"Thomas, clean your slut mother. Then make love to her. She loves you, and I know you love her. Treat her like a whore, but also respect and obey her. If she decides what I think she will, I shall return to you both. But it will not be in a dream."

With that, the teacher was gone. Jean had no time to consider her words because Tommy was on her like a cat, vigorously doing as his teacher said. His mouth roamed hungrily over her body, licking the piss, cum, blood and shit from every inch. Soon Jean was writhing in ecstasy, the feeling of her son's mouth too much to bear.

"Yes baby...lick off mommy. Clean me please. God how I want you son. Oh, how I love you.".

Enjoying the sensations streaking through her, Jean's mind began to fog. The forest faded and was slowly replaced by the walls of her bedroom as Jean slowly ascended from her deep sleep.

Tommy Wakes

Tommy awoke with a start, his sleep interrupted by two things. One was a sharp cramping in his lower abdomen. The other was the writhing body of his mother, who was sleeping beside him.

Before he could ascertain the reason for her fitful sleep, Tommy's bowels suddenly loosed a flow of runny shit, which quickly covered both his legs, and his mother's. Groaning, Tommy tried to turn away so the mess wouldn't get worse, but it was no use. More came out and the more he moved, more of their bodies became washed with his shit. Tommy found the feeling not unpleasant, but he was embarrassed knowing it was making such a mess in the bed.

He sat up in bed, sliding towards the head. He saw his mother begin spreading his shit with her hands over her body. Tommy gripped his hardening cock, becoming aroused by the sight of his mother wantonly caressing her large breasts with his excrement.

His excitement grew as she inserted two nasty fingers in her mouth as her other hand searched for her pussy, where Tommy noticed dark spots of blood as her hands spread the lips apart."Come to me please" he heard his mom plead in her sleep, "God I want you son. Oh how I love you.".

Despite knowing she was asleep, Tommy obeyed his mother and moved between her legs. As he guided his hard little member towards her cunt, he saw his mother's eyes flutter, the slowly open. Looking up at her son, a big lewd smile crossed her face.

"Yes my baby. Fuck your mommy. Fuck me now baby".

Tommy complied, driving his dick hard into his mother's hot hole. The pure nastiness of their disgusting bed only fed his excitement and it was only a few seconds before their orgasms occurred together.

"I'm sorry Mom. I couldn't hold it."

As Jean became more fully awake, she wondered if Tommy meant his ejaculation or his bowels. She became aware of the mess in the bed and began absently mindedly spreading even more shit over both their bodies.

"It's ok baby. We'll get you cleaned up right away. Do you still feel bad?".

"No, better actually, since I pooped".

Jean smiled at the childish word coming from her lover's mouth. She gently rolled him off her body and onto his back, then began licking the mess from him. She was surprised at the extent of the crap in their bed and on him. Despite the foul smell and taste, Jean's arousal returned as she cleaned her boy. She loved everything about him, even his shit. Hell, she told herself, especially his shit. Eventually she reluctantly admitted that only a bath would get them both clean. Jean arose and walked to the bathroom.

Stepping into the shower and turning it on, Jean's thoughts returned to the fading memory of her dream. The sheer excess of it was strangely comforting, assuring her that it was only indeed a dream.

But Jean pondered Miss Emily's last words. Was this affair between mother and son heading towards something more? Could she deny that eventually things would become more debased? In her heart, Jean knew it would. In a relatively short time she had done things with Tommy which were previously unthinkable. It was inevitable that even more debauchery was to follow. Jean was not yet ready to consider the involvement of all the people in the dream.

She knew that her subconscious included them because she had seen the Marine with her neighbour, and Emily's mention of her experience with her own son's bedwetting. She wasn't sure why Martin was in the dream, unless it was the thoughts she had been having recently of his imminent return.

One thing was certain. Jean knew that Tommy's teacher somehow knew there was more between Jean and Tommy than a normal mother/son relationship. The thought that Miss Emily might become involved more intimately with them frightened her. But it also stirred feelings of excitement that surprised her. An idea came to her.

Jean stepped from the shower, then inserted the plug to allow the tub to fill with water.

"Tommy, come take a bath dear. I must clean up our mess".

Tommy walked sleepily from the bedroom and got into the bath. Jean smiled as she saw how messy her boy was despite the cleaning she had already done. Resisting the temptation to join him in the tub, she asked "Would you like to invite Miss Emily over for dinner tomorrow night?".

Tommy's eyes lit up. "Are you sure Mom? You acted mad at her earlier".

Jean had long been used to Tommy's mature understanding of her moods. "I was Tommy, but I realize that she was just concerned about you. I think a dinner for her would be a nice way of thanking her for taking an interest in you, don't you agree?".

"Yes ma'am. It's a great idea!".

Jean felt a familiar pang of jealousy, hearing her son's obvious admiration of his teacher in his voice. She wondered if the Miss Emily of her dream would inspire the same devotion. Uneasily, Jean suspected it might.

As Tommy soaked in the tub, Jean began the task of stripping the bed. Oh, how she would love to give in to the temptation to just roll in the mess. Resisting that idea, Jean's thoughts instead turned to the words she would use to invite the teacher to their house. Her mind also began to weigh the possibilities of what may happen if she accepted the invitation. Something told Jean there was no doubt she would.

  Tommy & his Mum, part 8: Beaten Boy

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published by Tom | http://www.asstr.org/~tinytom

Jean settled on the couch, more than ready for her afternoon nap. Her day had flown by, filled with the usual chores that seemed to run her life. Of course, she would never complain about why her bedsheets required laundering every day, or why the shower must be thoroughly rinsed each morning.

Sometimes she mused that the gods were punishing her for her perverted indiscretions with her son by making her a clean freak. As much as she loved waking up in a bed soaked with her son's urine, as well as plenty of her own, and wallowing in a tub that served as their mutual toilet, Jean couldn't bear to let 9:00 am arrive without everything washed and scrubbed. Then it was off to the base commissary or nearby mall to take care of the day's errands.

Jean had taken to riding her bike whenever her destination was in range, and her firmed up figure showed the result of the constant exercise. Her affair with her son had awakened an awareness of her body. She had never been one to wear flattering outfits or sexy underwear before their dalliances began, instead preferring conservative clothes that didn't encourage lecherous leers at her ample bosom and generous, but not fat, bottom.

But now, she had a barely conscious need to look good for Tommy, not only when they were alone, but also in public together. She secretly enjoyed the appreciative glances that her new wardrobe of sun dresses, low-cut tops and shorts attracted, and there was an added guilty pleasure when she thought of what these men (and occasional woman) would make of her incestuous, kinky affair with the son she loved so dearly.

After her return from the markets, Jean would either attend whatever PTA meeting, bridge party, garden club or tea party scheduled for the afternoon. Even though Jean no longer felt she had as much in common with the other housewives that attended these activities, she still played the part of the good mother and neighbor. Besides, she also enjoyed the jealous looks and whispers she knew her suggestion of cleavage and nearly fully exposed thighs incited.

This was so new to Jean, this feeling of youth and sassiness, and it was all due her relationship with her son, and the associated sexual awakening. If only those chattering hens knew that she would much rather be home with her son, making love and performing all manner of filthy acts on each other.

More than once, Jean had overcome her penchant for total cleanliness and refrained from washing her hair after a particularly wet morning bathtub peeing session with Tommy, in order to leave the faint scent of his wonderful piss to sniff when the ladies became intolerably boring.

Finally back home most days around 3:30 or so, Jean would prepare the supper items so that they would only need heating up when dinner time came, which was usually squeezed between their typical after school sex romp and Tommy's homework hour. Then she would change to her robe, which usually covered her nude body, unless she was in the mood for some sexy lingerie.

Tommy always expressed special admiration when she took the time to "doll" herself up, but she didn't make the extra effort most days, instead saving it for Fridays or when a holiday meant no school for the next day. For some reason, the prettier she made herself up, the more she wanted his piss to streak the makeup, or his cum and shit to soil her nighties.

After getting comfortable, Jean would recline on her couch with a glass of wine (only one, because she never wanted to drift off into an alcohol induced deep sleep and waste a minute of her too short times with her lover, her son) and patiently await her son's return. More than once, her finger would search for, and find, her clit when the nasty day dreams of what she would be doing in a short time engorged that sensitive little spot.

Sometimes she masturbated to the point of orgasm, but usually it was little more than a self tease that gradually built until Tommy came home, at which point the poor boy was often sprung upon almost as soon as he closed the door. Not that he ever griped.

This day was Wednesday, meaning that Tommy would be an hour later because he stopped by the dowdy but sweet piano teacher's house for his weekly piano lesson. Jean had finished her chores and errands early (Tommy hadn't wet the bed the night before, she noted when she awoke, somewhat disappointed), and decided to afford herself an orgasm, not thinking she could hold off the extra time, given the unusually high level of horniness she was experiencing that day, no doubt brought on by two matters.

First, because she was ovulating. Jean had discovered that her sexual urges increased during periods of ovulation and menstrual flow, and she was glad Tommy enjoyed throwing blood into the mix with the piss, shit, prepubescent seminal fluid and her copious vaginal flow that were such a prevalent part of their sordid sexual activities. In addition to that, Jean's mind had been preoccupied of late with an impending visit from Tommy's teacher, Miss Emily. Keeping her promise to her son, Jean had called his teacher to invite her over for dinner.

Expecting a polite but cool rebuff, Jean was somewhat surprised when Miss Emily accepted, and also asked if her son Jack could join her. Jack was also in Tommy's class, and they shared the same piano teacher. Tommy had never mentioned if Jack was a friend, only bringing his name up once that she could remember, telling her of the piano teacher's idea that he and Jack might perform a duet at the next piano recital. Tommy seemed receptive to the idea, but had spoken nothing of it since. Perhaps the boys would discuss it when Miss Emily and Jack came over for dinner, a visit that was planned for the coming Friday evening.

When she allowed herself to masturbate with abandon, Jean's orgasm came quickly, and this day's session was no exception. With the fresh memory of that same morning, when Tommy showed his newer aggressive side by grabbing a handful of her hair as he stood facing her as she kneeled in the tub, then forcing her face to his cock just at the moment he unleashed a hot spray of piss directly into her mouth that had gaped open in surprise at the roughness of his grip, Jean attacked her clit with abandon, rubbing and slapping it, craving a quick, but assuredly short lived respite from the sexual cravings that never left her for long these days.

Jean remembered the submissive mewl that arose from her throat as the feeling of nasty helplessness overwhelmed her, and she gratefully swallowed every drop of the salty liquid that her youthful master had insisted she take. At least, that was the role she assumed then, one she enjoyed.

Another mental image that came to Jean as she pleasured herself was the obvious appraisal of her breasts by Miss Emily that day when Jean picked Tommy up from school. Even now, her nipples hardened as she remembered the teacher's fixed gaze upon her cleavage during that brief moment. It was just a look, but Jean was sure she detected a flicker of desire, or at least interest.

The very possibility that the strict teacher might have an interest in Jean that went beyond a parent/teacher relationship increased the pleasure Jean was currently experiencing. Before she knew it, Jean came with a cry, then fell into a light sleep that went unbroken until the sound of the bathroom door closing stirred her.

Confused by the darkness, which had apparently fallen as she slept even though the sunsets were coming later with summer approaching, Jean tried to get her bearings. Adjusting the robe to cover her breasts, which had spilled out of the robe that barely contained them, Jean rose from the couch when she heard the shower running.

She wondered why Tommy was showering. That usually waited until morning, when the residue of their wickedness required a good cleansing. She also wondered why he slipped into the house without waking her. Normally, Tommy was ready for sex with his mother as soon as he arrived home. Jean couldn't remember the last time five minutes had passed before they were embracing, their tongues entwined in a passionate kiss, their hands groping each other's body.

Jean tapped on the closed bathroom door. This, too, was unusual. Neither mother nor son bothered with closed doors, be it bathroom or bedroom. In fact, each would await the other before relieving their bladder or emptying their bowels. Even these most private personal activities were opportunities for love making, and the toilet was seldom required.

At first, Tommy didn't answer his mother's knock. She repeated it, a bit louder this time. Instead of hearing the quick invitation inside she expected, Tommy asked his mother to wait. Frustrated, Jean opened the door anyway, and entered the bathroom. It only took a glance at her son's slight naked frame, covered with soap as hot water coursed from head to toe, to start the flow of moisture in Jean's ever-ready cunt. She quickly dropped the robe and prepared to join her son. She was quite taken aback by his reaction.

"Please Mom", he pleaded, "not now, ok?".

Jean didn't know what to say. From the very first day that they had discovered their mutual sexual attraction, neither mother nor son had ever spurned the other's advance. Indeed, it seldom took more than a touch or glance to initiate yet another session of their messy lovemaking. Despite her son's protests, she playfully reached out to pinch Tommy's little bottom. It was then that she first noticed the many red welts on his back, bottom and legs.

"Tommy! What happened to you?".

"Nothing, Mom".

"Nothing, my foot! You have nasty red marks all over your backside".

"Mom, please. Let me take my shower, ok?"

Jean took her son by his shoulders and spun him around. She was not angry, just alarmed at those mysterious marks. Something or someone really did a number on her baby boy, and she intended to find out how those welts got there."Tommy, now you listen to me. Those marks are serious. A couple were nearly bleeding. Now, I want you to tell me this instant what happened".

Jean seldom pulled out the "Mother Card" on Tommy. For one, he was normally so well behaved and obedient, it was hardly ever necessary. Two, their bond was closer even than Mother and Son. They were friends, lovers and partners in the most deviant of sexual acts.

For the first time, her command was rebuffed. Tommy quickly pulled from his mother's grasp and turned his face back into the shower, ignoring her. Jean was dumbfounded. Realizing she was getting nowhere, she gave Tommy his privacy. Looking back as she closed the door, she saw those dreadful wounds once again.

In the back of her mind, Jean thought of how they were somehow sexy, so red against Tommy's white skin, the water almost making them shimmer. The wetness between her legs increased despite her concern for her son. Jean scolded herself for allowing such an abhorrent thought, that a wound on her son's delicate skin would somehow stir such a feeling in her, enter her mind. "My God", Jean thought, "what is wrong with me?" Yet, she knew. Nothing was normal anymore. Pee is for drinking. Shit is for eating and smearing on bodies. Mother and son, doing the most abnormal things. Why was she surprised that the sight of red welts on her son's lovely bottom would arouse her?

Jean leaned against the door and collected her thoughts. Tommy was obviously disturbed by whatever occurred that left those welts. She decided to suppress her sexual urges, have a glass of wine and determine the best way to coax his troubles from him.

She went into the kitchen and helped herself to a large glass of zinfandel. As she was putting the bottle away, she heard Tommy go from the bathroom to his bedroom, obviously in a hurry. Waiting for his door to close, Jean went to her own room. Sipping her wine, Jean pondered her next move. She decided to shower herself, slip into her full length, low cut satin night gown and approach her son slowly, perhaps with an offer to rub lotion on his wounds, with a promise of no questions until he was ready.

Moments later, Jean was enjoying the hot stream that was turning her skin pink, and the wine that warmed her insides. Realizing that her lingering horniness might interfere with her resolve to not pressure her troubled boy for sex, Jean changed the setting of her hand-held showerhead to massage and aimed it at her clit, which was exposed by her free hand. The hot pulsations brought her quickly to orgasm. Her knees weakened, Jean lowered herself into the tub, brought her knees back and apart, then aimed the spray directly at her anus.

Tommy had discovered how easily this stimulated a bowel movement, and it happened this time. Jean moaned as her sphincter loosened and tightened in rhythm to the massager, responding to the pulses with an offering from her bowels. Jean had long before come to crave the feeling of release that shitting anywhere but a toilet brought. Her mind seemed tuned to her asshole as it expelled her excrement with gradual internal muscle contractions.

As she felt the hot turd push through her stretched opening, she could not resist the temptation to push it back in with her index finger, loving how her bowels seemed to fight her attempts to reverse their efforts. More shit pushed out around her finger, as she was unable to stop the flow, so Jean took advantage of her relaxed anus and pushed two fingers as quickly and deeply as possible.

Jesus, how she loved the feeling of fullness her fingers and shit gave her rectum. This was new for Jean, playing with her own shit without the benefit of Tommy's participation. When alone, her masturbation sessions were of the ordinary, clit rubbing variety, like earlier on the couch. But Jean was determined to rid herself of nasty inclinations, as much as was possible.

It wasn't long before she wallowing in a tub full of shitty water, using her fingers to spread her excrement over her cunt (the risk of infection only intensified the wonderful feeling of perversion), then her breasts, finally up and into her mouth.As she cleaned the foul substance off her fingers, she used her other hand to spread her labia. Jean felt her bladder loosen, and the position she was laying in allowed her piss to go straight up, then right back down onto her open vagina. The hot piss stimulated yet another orgasm, causing Jean to moan and roll around in the nasty pool of water, shit and piss.

Finally sated, Jean forced herself to drain the tub and return the shower setting to the overhead fixture, and went about the task of washing the fetid residue from her body and hair, which required two shampoos and rinses. After that came the task of scrubbing the tub with disinfectant, which always seemed to set the guilty feelings that always came after sex, even masturbation, at ease.

That ease did not come. Not only did Jean feel a bit guilty over pleasuring herself in such a nasty way; she had done it to that excess for the first time without her young son as a partner. The piss and shit fetish they explored almost daily had become "their" wonderful secret, and a close bond had grown between them as a result, a bond much closer than mother and son or lovers normally shared.

Jean felt she had just cheated on Tommy in a small way, a feeling she never experienced after a pre-afternoon nap masturbation session. And making it even worse, she had enjoyed it immensely, experiencing multiple, intense orgasms.

Jean put those thoughts out of her head and focused on the problem at hand, that of finding out the reason for those red marks on her son. She left the bathroom naked and returned to her bedroom. She chose a full length satin nightgown, the green one that Tommy favored, probably because of the plunging neckline that offered him easy access to the full breasts that he enjoyed suckling so much. The gown hinted of sex without outright exposing her body. Perfect, she thought. Tommy would not assume she desired sex, although that wasn't true. Jean grabbed a bottle of lotion that had aloe in it, and proceeded to Tommy's bedroom. Without knocking, Jean slowly pushed the door open and entered the room.

Tommy appeared to be asleep, face down into his pillow. The top sheet was pulled up to just below his shoulders. Jean crept in and sat lightly on the side of her son's bed. Slowly, she pulled the sheet down. Tommy stirred, then tried to pull the sheet back up."Now, now Tommy", Jean said in a voice just barely above a whisper, "I'm just going to rub a little lotion on your back. I won't ask any questions until you're ready, ok?”

Tommy nodded his assent, then released the sheet. Pulling it down, Jean gasped at what she saw. The red welts were more numerous than she had first thought. They went up to just below his shoulder blades, down over his bottom to just above his knees. Some were just slightly red, but many were dark red, nearly bruised.

Fighting her angry impulse to demand what happened from her son, Jean kept her promise and poured some lotion over Tommy's back. He twitched, then relaxed, as he grew accustomed to the cool liquid.

Taking care to not irritate the sores, Jean spread the lotion, first on her son's back, then working slowly down to his buttocks, where it seemed the worst of the welts were. Despite her concern for her son, Jean felt a strong urge to slip a slick finger into her son's anus. Indeed, her finger did part his cheeks, but then she saw the worst of the welts, deep red nearly to the point of bleeding, right beside his puckered brown hole.

Tears of caring mixed with anger welled in Jean's eyes as she oh so carefully applied some lotion to the angry sore. Tommy's butt cheeks clenched reflexively, momentarily grabbing the finger Jean was using. The sight of her son's cheeks tightening and the way he slightly raised his hips was just too much for Jean to resist. Carefully, she pressed the finger into the opening of her son's ass, letting out a sigh as she felt the smooth warmth just past her baby boy's sphincter.

Just as quickly, Jean regained her composure and withdrew her finger. Without thinking, she put it into her mouth, savoring the taste of his ass. Then Jean returned to her task, squelching the urge to continue the molestation that she wanted to do so badly.

Taking deep breaths to calm herself, Jean finished applying the lotion to the backs of Tommy's legs. Something about the hot redness contrasting against the alabaster skin of her son's backside gave Jean chills that she couldn't explain. Concern for his welfare was the only thing keeping her from licking him, as she so wanted to feel the heat from his wounds.

Jean tried to ignore the wetness that had drenched her hairy pussy. It was unnerving to her that she couldn't suppress sexual desire for her son at a time like this, and even more disturbing to her that the wounds she was treating had stimulated that desire. Jean's hand had started massaging her breasts, which had also begun to ache with desire.

Shaking her head, Jean tried to collect her thoughts. To distract herself, she gently prodded Tommy to turn over. Once again, he seemed reluctant, but eventually complied. Jean gasped again when she saw more welts, not as many but all located on and around his genitals. Even the head of his small cock was red, and his balls appeared to be slightly swollen. Sensing that an erection might only increase her son's discomfort, Jean did not linger long on his cock, despite an urge to grab that lovely member and masturbate her son.

Before things got out of hand, so to speak, Jean pulled the sheet up to Tommy's waist. He was looking at his mother with a mixture of sadness and slight desire, which prompted Jean to do what always seemed to calm her son.

Dropping the shoulder strap of her gown, Jean pulled her right breast out and leaned to offer the nipple to her son's mouth. Just as she expected, Tommy took it gratefully, drawing it into his mouth and began suckling as if a baby. Jean drew her boy to her breast and cradled him, gently rocking as she pondered how to draw the story of how the welts came to be on her precious boy.

Despite her curiosity, Jean savored the present moment, knowing that Tommy would tell her when he was ready. Until then, his mouth on her breast was pure heaven.