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Subject: Title story: "Mom's Throat" Author: INCESTOR 59557067
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Date: Tue, 15 Nov 2005 12:04:41 +0000
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Mom's Throat "Tommy, where are you lover boy?" My mother called to greet me as
she walked through our front door. She had just got home from an important
business trip that had lasted 10 whole days. "Mom? MMMOOOMMM!!! I rushed from my
upstairs bedroom and leaped down the stairs, barely touching the steps, and
targeted my mothers outstretched arms. I rushed into her soft breasts, nearly
knocking her ten feet it seemed. "OooHH TOMMY!!! MMMmmmm Honey! " smootch!!!
smootch!!! smootch!!! She gave me a great big bear hug and locked me in her arms
so tight I could hardly breath. "I MISSED YOU SOOOOooooo MUCH!!!!" she said, as
tears were flowing profusely from my mothers eyes. Her pretty face had a huge
smile from ear to ear. She held me back at arms length to get another good look
at me, and then bear hugged me again. I felt yet another round of hugs and wet
smootches and enjoyed every second of it. I missed her so bad I was crying too.
It was 7:30 in the evening, on a warm September Friday. I had just got home from
Junior Varsity football practice. So I still had on my jock strap and full red
sweats with our school logo on them. "Wanatchee Wildcats won again mom." I was
talking about the varsity team of course, which nearly won the state
championship last year. They looked like they were even better this year, so
everyone in town was closely following them in the news. I had just turned
fifteen and started highschool. Because I was big and strong for my age, I was
made a defensive end on the JV team, jumping ahead of the sophomore squad. Mom
held a hand up to my face, and began softly stroking my cheek. "Isn't your first
big game tomorrow Tommy?" "Yeah, coach busted our nuts today. I think we're
ready though." I was definitely being brutally honest. My nuts felt busted
alright. Like two ripe walnuts being shelled using a nutcracker!!! I always save
myself for mom when we are apart. That's because I know how much she loves the
extra thick gobs of my sperm, that never form any other way than when my
ballsack has lots of time to rest and produce them. The gobs I had now had a
whopping ten days to form. Something mom was very much aware of and could hardly
keep off her mind. That has only ever happened once before. It was on the day we
first consummated our love. A very special day just last May, that my mother and
I will cherish the rest of our entire lives together. "How are they feeling
honey? Are you doing ok?" She asked me as we turned to walk towards the kitchen.
She had her arm draped affectionately over my shoulder. Our steps were labored
under each others weight as we pressed into each other to be closer, and
continue a sort of never ending hug since she walked through the door. We
separated, and she went to the frig for some cold wine, and a beer for me. I
could always celebrate our reunion with at least a six pack of bud. But that was
it. Mom never had too much either. It was always just enough for both of us to
catch a good buzz, and lighten up the evening. I mulled deeply over her question
about my nuts for a moment , as if pondering the fate of the entire world. "I
don't know. They sure are swollen. I got hit there a few times today tackling
guys, but I don't think that's it. My jock cup protected me. I think it's just
because I've been saving it for you for so long this time. I feel like I'm ready
to burst my appendix!" [ time for some necessary background ] Mom had a 4.0
grade point average all through college. And now she was moving up the ladder at
the bank my grandfather founded just after WW II in 1946. We inherited this 104
acre orchard and old farmhouse we now live on from grandpa two years ago. He
passed away peacefully in his sleep at age 76. And was chairmen of the board for
the bank until the day he died. Wanatchee Merchant's Bank was expanding it's
investments overseas, and because of my mother's proven acumen for growing
profits in tough markets, she was made head of the entire investments division.
Not a bad move. And due entirely to her smarts, not her looks, or because she
was the daughter of my grandpa. She had to go to Wall Street in New York City to
meet personally with clients and take in several investment strategy seminars.
She called me every day. And left messages on my computer with her portable
laptop. I was born out of wedlock. My father was a young champion stock car
racer whom mother met at the fairgrounds race track when she was just 16. He was
awestruck by her virgin beauty, and she was infatuated with his dashing good
looks and incredible zest for life and adventure. They both fell madly in love
with each other. He was winning allot of races, and moving rapidly towards the
big time national events, even though he was just 21. Commercial sponsors began
hounding him day and night, until finally he singed on to a fat contract with
Goodyear. When mom began to grow real big with me inside, she did not follow him
on his road trips anymore ...
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