Kindly written by Tom
(a disgracefully talented writer)
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, Ms Emily, demeanor 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, Ms 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 Ms 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 Ms 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 Ms. 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.
Jean withdrew her hand as she turned into her driveway. Looking next door she saw Sgt. Johnson, the
large muscular black marine guard who always saluted her sharply as she drove through the gates of the navy base, stepping out the door of her neighbor Katie's house. As he left he turned to embrace and kiss Katie, who was standing right
behind him. Jean stared as she saw his hand reach inside her only garment, a bathrobe, and squeeze her breast as he gave her a long, wet goodbye kiss. Jean was shocked at this. While most of the neighborhood knew of Katie's dalliances, she
was usually more discreet than this. Jean gathered Tommy in her arms and carried the small boy towards her back door. Looking sideways, she saw the bemused smile on Katie's face. How she despised that woman and her slutty smugness.
Jean kicked the back door shut behind her, in a hurry to get her son to her bed.
Emily
Emily van Haankden had agreed to leave 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 mold, 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 behavior. 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) 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 favorite 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 demeanor, 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 odor 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 and Tommy
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.
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