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Subject: Title story: "A 'Cute' Mom" Author: TABOO MAN 53041014
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Date: Thu, 01 Sep 2005 02:16:24 +0000
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A 'Cute' Mom
by Mikelh ©
I was thinking about one of the things I often think about. Why do we do things?
I was also thinking about my mother…pornographic thoughts. The strange thing
about it is that I really didn't want to do pornographic things to her. I wanted
to do loving things to her. I wanted to have her warm lips pressing on mine as I
gently massaged her bare breasts.
Where did it all come from? Perhaps from other actions or desires or maybe just
a little shot of electro-chemical stuff hits the brain at exactly at the right
or wrong time. I had pinned it down to the time I was fifteen and saw my older
brother Bobby kiss my mother. I thought she had kissed him for a second too
long. Maybe I just imagined that it went on for too long; after all, she kissed
me on the lips often and it was no big deal. Maybe I had wanted her for a long
time before and never let it come into my consciousness. Maybe she was sleeping
with him. Maybe, maybe, maybe…but from then on my life took a different turn.
For the next few months, in my fantasies, I saw Bobby with my mother. He would
strip her then he would suck on her nipples as she stood obediently before him.
She always followed his orders. He screamed at her and called her names. Most of
the fantasies were rough and I realized later that they were spawned by my anger
and frustration. Robby would tie my mother to a chair and blindfold her. He
would pinch her nipples until she screamed and almost choke her with his cock.
She would beg him to stop but there was no mercy for her in this dark play; he
was relentless. He would fuck my poor mother until she couldn't stand and then
he would come on her.
It took me a while to realize that my brother was only a stand-in for me and
when I allowed myself to be the imagined participant, the expression of my
erotic fabrications became gentler. I couldn't hurt her, even in imaginings. I
wanted to love her. I wanted her to love me.
I thought I had concealed my thoughts and feelings pretty well and that mom
never knew how I felt, until that day of course. Bobby had moved out of the
house and I wasn't sorry to see him go. Although things had gotten better
between Bobby and me but I still hadn't forgotten all the punches and taunts of
"Momma's boy" he had let me have when we were younger.
I was nineteen and in my third year of college. I had picked a school near
home. Since Bobby left, my mother and I had had gotten even closer than we
were before. I liked talking to her and we spent lots of nights together
watching videos.
On that particular morning, mom was ...
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