Kindly written by Tom
(a disgracefully talented writer)
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.
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