BRAINWASHED BY MY STUD SON, BOOK FIVE
Werner looked me up and down. The six thugs on the doorstep took in the full impact of my fuck-me miniskirt. They liked it. They approved of my red, butt-length party dress. They savored my plunging neckline down as far as my perky belly button, the two narrow swags of red silk parting on plenty of cleavage, barely wide enough to hold back my full, sumptuous breasts.
I said:
“Werner! Boys! So nice to see you!”
I wondered if they knew I was brainwashed, whether they could feel the light tingling in my head, the hot clicks running up my spine, the mellow feeling overwhelming me from head to toe… or if they thought I was just another horny MILF, into being ganged…
“… Hi… do come in…!”
Werner’s squashed nose and skewiff eyes. The fat guy’s greasy hair. The stringy dude’s beery smell. The Asian stud’s bristling crewcut. The black guy just took my breath away. The bodybuilder still shirtless, he hadn’t even changed his cammo shorts from his last visit. They were thugs…
… But such spunky thugs…
… They were animals…
… But such prime stud studs…
I was only doing this for my son’s sake. I didn’t want Walt to get beaten up, did I?
The six men pushed past me. They headed for the living room. They knew their way round my house already.
I clung onto the thought of Doctor Bradford, and my love for Doctor Bradford, and Doctor Bradford’s love for me, with the last vestiges of my brainwashed mind. Greg was right now working on a way to break the control my son had over my mind. Greg was determined to free me from this dreadful hypnosis, but I was no longer sure if even Greg could save me. This feeling was too strong. I hoped the man I loved would forgive me for what I was about to do. I prayed Greg wouldn’t wash his hands of me for allowing these thugs into my living room… but Greg’s image was already fading from my mind…. his wise eyes and kind voice were already sinking from my consciousness… it was hard to even remember much about him.
I smoothed skimpy silk over my hour-glass hips. I took a deep breath:
“… Would you guys like a drink…?”
The stringy dude reeked of beer. The fat guy looked drunk already. Offering them alcohol wasn’t a good idea but I needed time to work out what was happening.
Walt owed these brutes three thousand dollars. They were going to beat my son up if they didn’t get their three thousand dollars back! They’d hinted they might even kill him, if Walt’s debt wasn’t repaid right now…
… My mind hazed over… for a second everything became a blur…
… There was something else… something about prostitutes I also needed to remember… yes… that’s right… a hooker charged five hundred bucks a night’s sex, for a full night’s sex. They were using me like a hooker. I was selling my body for Walt’s sake. There were six of them… six times five hundred dollars… that came to three thousand dollars Walt would no longer owe them, once they’d finished fucking me.
I glanced at my watch. It was only eight o’clock. Hopefully ‘all night’ was only a term used in the trade.
The fat guy growled:
“Yeah. A drink sounds like a good idea. What ya got?”
Hairy paunch, shirt unbuttoned, wet lips. The fat guy was definitely the alcoholic among them.
I served them whiskey, vodka, beer from our well-stocked cocktail cabinet. There was always plenty of liquor in the house now Walt had started drinking.
The Asian guy and the stringy dude sat on the couch studying my split in my party dress, assessing how far above my fuck-me hemline my hot pussy was.
The black guy leaned against the door chatting to someone on his phone.
The fat guy and the bodybuilder took up both armchairs. The fat guy and the bodybuilder seemed more interested in my tits than my pussy.
Werner was examining the photographs on the dresser, the framed snap-shots of our one-parent-family.
He’ picked up one of the photos. He leered:
“Walt sure was a pretty little fella, ey? When he was little!”
I murmured:
“Put that down!”
It was my favorite photo. Walt three years old. Me still only twenty-two. Sitting on a blanket in the back garden.
Werner grinned:
“Sure looks like little Walt really loves his Mommy!”
It was true. It was a particularly affectionate snap-shot, but I still couldn’t stand the way he said.
The Asian guy patted his knee.
“Come and sit here, baby.”
I perched on the Asian dude’s knee. The beer on his breath smelled okay. He was muscular, but not appallingly so. None of Werner’s gang were ‘nice’, but if I had to choose one, the Asian guy seemed the nicest of the six.
He felt my wet heat pulsing on his knee.
He put his arm around me.
I laughed, a little shrilly. Werner had made me pour a whiskey for myself:
“… I can trust you guys, can I…?… how do I know you aren’t playing games with me…?… that Walt really owes you all this money…”
Werner grinned:
“He owes us alright, darling. Your son owes us three thousand bucks. Got the receipts if you wanta see.”
He handed me a sheaf of grubby IOUs. Five hundred dollars. A thousand dollars. Three hundred. Four. Walt’s handwriting worse for wear from the alcohol they’d plied him with. I added it up. Yes. Three thousand dollars on the dot. Six of them. Five hundred dollars each. There was no way out.
The Asian dude’s hand was already searching my inner thigh, feeling how soft the silky skin was high up near my pussy.
He grinned:
“Would you believe it, man? Old Walt scared of a juicy pussy like this?”
Werner leered:
“Sure is, fella. Walt’s frightened of his Mom’s hot cunt!”
What were they talking about? Scared? Walt scared of me? Of my juicy pussy? Frightened of my hot cunt? How dare they speak of my son to me like that?
Except… my pussy was certainly hot right now, slipping and sliding on his hairy knee, my hem already riding up, my succulent wetness plastering virile hair to his thick kneecap. His hand felt deliciously rough. His fingers were chapped and callused. He must be a construction worker or a steel rigger or something, his hand felt so big and strong, manhandling my leg like it was a voluptuous girder swinging around on a crane.
Werner laughed:
“Yeah. Young Walt’s certainly one fucked-up dude.”
What were they talking about. Young Walt? Old Walt? Why wouldn’t they stop talking about my son?
My skirt had already found its way up round my waist. The Asian guy’s fingers grazed my moist slit. He ran the side of his hand up my wet cunt. I shivered all over. He was lining my pussy up for a karate chop. He wasn’t a construction worker or a steel rigger. He was a karate black belt. His little finger felt rough and callused, stroking my pulsing wetness. He smashed concrete and snapped tiles with one blow with the side of his hand, like the blow he was about to sink into my melting pussy. His callused knuckle was already torturing my slippery clit.
“… Oh… oh…”
The stringy guy was standing over me. He had a full glass of whiskey in his hand. He chuckled.
“Hot Mom like this, I wouldn’t say no.”
He pressed the glass to my lips and tipped my head back. Stinging liquid flooded my throat.
What the hell did he mean, ‘I wouldn’t say no’?
The Asian guys karate-toughened fingers slipped into my cunt. Callused fingertips bathed in my pulsing wetness, lining up the sweet place where he was going to break me.
My tail-bone kicked.
“… Oh… oh… oh fuck…”
He laughed:
“Hey! Aren’t I getting’ none of that?”
He had a slippery handful of my yearning gash already. What was he on about?
I swallowed another mouthful of whiskey. Glass battered against my teeth. My plump lips overflowed. The stringy guy was thoughtfully sharing his drink with me. I wasn’t sharing my drink with the Asian dude pleasuring me.
His fingertips slid in and out of my sopping pussy:
“Don’t be a greedy girl now! We got enough to go around!”
I understood. I filled my mouth with whiskey. My mouth battened on his mouth. My luscious lips plastered his broad, cruel lips, sealed his mouth tight with a voluptuous kiss, kept too much whiskey from escaping down my chin, our tongues grappling in a bear-pit of burning fire-water, my tongue probing for his throat, passing the whiskey into his mouth, down his virile gullet.
“… Argh… argh…”
My tail-bone kicked. My pussy jerked and bucked. My hot cunt slithered in his hand.
Fu-uuuuuuuuuck. I was cumming. Just one rapturous kiss and my pussy was throbbing hot juice into his chapped palm.
“… Argh… argh… argh-llllllllllllllllllllllllllll…!”
The fat guy laughed:
“That’s one hungry bitch, man.”
“Bet she sucks cock real good,” said the stringy dude.
Werner jeered:
“Walt reckons she likes to suck a big one. Walt says his Mom throats like a beauty.”
What was he on about, ‘she likes to suck a big one’? ‘Walt says his Mom throats like a beauty’? I’d never sucked Walt’s cock! I’d never deep-throated my son!
They were torturing me with lies. Their lies were torturing me more than their rough hands all over my voluptuous body, pulling my dress down round my elbows, dragging hot silk up into the small of my back.
The room lurched. My head was spinning. I lost my balance. I slipped on the Asian guy’s knee and fell onto the couch. I was on my hands and knees on the couch between the Asian guy and the stringy dude, my knees slipping and sliding on moist upholstery, my hot mouth closing round the karate guy’s thick cock, my wet clit slithering in his palm, his strong grip fastening on my quaking depths.
“… Glurg… gla-aaaaaaarg… argh-llllllllllllllllll…”
I wasn’t exactly sure when the stringy guy started fucking me.
I knew he was on his knees somewhere behind me licking my curvaceous ass-cheeks.
The Asian guy’s fingers were no longer inside me.
I became aware that the stingy guy was unzipping his pants, his tongue plastering luscious saliva on my toned butt’s succulent softness… but the moment when he mounted me had already slipped by without me really realizing. By the time I knew I was being fucked his long hooked cock was slamming into my helpless pussy like a meat-hook bent on lifting an intolerable wait.
“… Argh… argh…”
The fat guy chortled:
“Bitch likes a drink. Same as her alcoholic son.”
Alcoholic? Walt wasn’t alcoholic. Walt drank he lot. My son drank too much. He got hammered far too often. But that was only because he had some problems, that was only because something was eating at him. My son was far too young to be an alcoholic.
My tail-bone kicked. My pussy jerked and bucked. A wave of pleasure surged up my body, taking the stringy guy deep.
Shi-iiiiiiiiit. I was cumming again! I felt all-over succulent… delicious… red-hot. My molten gash was rutting on the stringy guy’s hooked stabs, bringing him off, riding him over the brink.
“… Glu-uuurg… gla-aaaaaaaaarg…”
“Bitch takes it in both holes.”
Both holes? Fuck the lot of them. I had three holes that needed to be filled, not two. My ass was hotter than anything these low-lifes had ever encountered. The brainwashed clicks thrilling up my spine took hold of my whole body. My tight ring was aching for a big cock too. I was insatiable. I was irresistible. I was too hot for these dudes to handle. I could take six of them no problem. Six wasn’t enough.
“… Glu-uuuuuuurg… gla-aaaaaaaaaaaaaarg… argh-llllllllllllllllllllllllllll…”
I sank my teeth into the Asian’s guy’s thick shaft way down deep where the throbbing was strongest. I clamped his rock-hard cock in a luscious love-bite. I raked upwards with my teeth. I combed delicious spasms out of his pounding piston. I licked gag and saliva off his swollen tip. My lips formed a helpless O. My throat picked up the stabbing rhythm of the stringy guy’s cock in my pussy. I impaled my slippery wind-pipe again and again and again on the Asian guy’s throbbing spear-head. I was stunning. I was out of this world. Somewhere in the far depths of my mind I remembered that even a man as noble and upright as Doctor Bradford loved my hot body. I undulated voluptuously. I was too much for these dudes. I brought the two studs off in the same spasm of helpless ecstasy.
“… Argh… argh… argh-llllllllllllllllllllllllllll…!”
I choked and spluttered. I was suffocating on hot cum. A clenched stab between my legs turned to a star-burst of wet warmth filling my pussy, overflowing down my legs.
“… Glu-uuuuuuuuuuuuuurg… gla-aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarg…!”
Someone handed me a bottle. I washed the Asian guy’s cum down with a nice shot of mellow fire.
I looked up. The black guy was standing over me. He had his thing in his hand. I stopped breathing altogether.
I was slurring my words. But the basic meaning was getting through. The black guy understood what I was saying. I had three holes, not two.
“… Wanta fuck my ass-z…?… eye-z take it up the ass-z too…”
The black dude had a nice suave smile:
“So I heard.”
Werner jeered:
“Yeah. Walt told us.”
They kept on lying. They wouldn’t stop telling lies about my son. I was fucking them, wasn’t I? I was giving them what they wanted. Why wouldn’t they stop tormenting me with this talk about Walt? Why wouldn’t they stop torturing me with my son?
The bodybuilder stroked his cock:
“When he’s drunk Walt tells us everything.”
The fat guy laughed:
“How hot is mother is.”
The Asian guy guffawed:
“How he can’t resist dear Mommy.”
My mind became a blur. I didn’t want to listen. I was brainwashed, that was all. It was only the click in my brain that was setting off these helpless orgasms. It was just the light in my head. It was making me too horny. When I was brainwashed I was too beautiful for a mere man to live with. The stringy guy’s load was still streaming down my legs and his hooked cock was stiff again. The mellow feeling turned to a full-on meltdown. I was still swallowing the Asian guy’s tangy semen and the hot clicks thrilling up my spine already had him erect again, thinking about my pussy. My brainwashed state was doing sensational things to the black guy’s huge cock.
I moue-d:
“… C’m on… c’m on… five hundred bucks… you wanna fuck my tight ass…?”
My knees slipped on wet upholstery. I cocked my butt. I reached round blindly behind me. My fingernails felt beautifully sharp, deliciously manicured, sinking into my butt’s curvaceous softness, drawing my ass-cheeks apart for him, showing the black guy how enticing my tight ring was. My stalker’s monster cock, the gold ring twitching in his foreskin, had fucked me up the ass. My cute ring could take anything.
Werner leered:
“Go on, man. Give it a crack. Walt says she takes it up the ass real good.”
I refused to listen. They were crazy. The dude stalking me wasn’t my own son.
I swiveled my fingernail into tight, deliciously clenched muscle. I thrust my fingertip in where my body was tightest. I pushed it in knuckle-deep. I focused my mind on giving the black guy his five hundred dollars worth. I looked up at him. I moue-d over my shoulder:
“… C’m on… c’m on… what you waiting for… you want some of this…?”
I already knew from my stalker that the instant I pulled my finger out my ring would clench tight and resistant again, but I meant it. I wanted him. I liked the black dude. He was the coolest of the six. I wanted to give his big cock its five hundred bucks worth. My butt could still remember how good my stalker felt once he got past the pain and resistance.
A predator’s rumbling growl. He kneeled on the couch behind me, between my slithering knees:
“If you say so, lady.”
My rear crater filled with a sudden throbbing thickness. My ring clenched helplessly. My ass-hole spasmed at his sheer size. I moaned through gritted teeth:
“… C’m on… c’m on…”
I shut my eyes. I clenched my teeth. I’d taken my stalker. I could take this. Luckily my ring was slippery. At least I was lubed. Pussy juice and the stringy guy’s cum had worked their way up between my legs.
“… Ow-wwwwwwwww…!”
The black guy wanted me. He wanted me real bad. Stallion shivers, rampant shudders, skated his rock-hard spear-head into my tiny aperture. The shivers turned to a heavy throb clamped in my hot ring’s burning vice.
“… Ow-eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee…!”
The bodybuilder laughed:
“Hear that, man? She likes it.”
The fat guy giggled:
“Didn’t Walt tell us so?”
They were liars. Deceivers. I refused to listen.
“… Ou-uuuuuuuch…!”
I eased my tight tunnel back onto the black guy’s throbbing stake. The deeper he went the tighter I got. Hot walls collapsed inside me. Sumptuous bones unknitted in my butt. My rear passage squeezed spasm after delicious spasm into the pounding piston splitting me in two.
“… Oh… oh… oh fuck…’
The clicks thrilling up my spine began to flow deliriously, hot waves heaving in a heavy sea. My pulsing ring went into rut. My slippery aperture rode voluptuously on the black guy’s relentless prong, coaxing it in deeper, my ass-hole mouthing for the fucking rhythm, urging his throbbing spear-head to take me, to fuck me hard.
“… Yes… yes…”
I was irresistible. Insatiable. Even a thug as big and powerful as this all-male animal was at my beck and call.
“… Oh fuck… yes… ye-eeeeeeeeeeeeees…”
My hot ring released him, made him pull out to his full throbbing length and slam pile-driver after ecstatic pile-driver into my quaking ass.
“… Oh fuck… fu-uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck…”
The black guy grabbed my hips. His hands were strong and warm. He held me still with both hands and rammed his rock-hard shaft hard and fast and deep into my irresistible meltdown.
“… Yes… yes… fuck… oh fu-uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck…!”
I spasmed on his final throb. I liked him. I climaxed voluptuously for him. If he’d had some penis jewelry, a thick gold ring in his foreskin, he might even have been as good as the special one, my stalker. The black guy exploded in my butt. Surge after surge of hot cum pumped into my rear hole. He filled me so tight there was nowhere for his pulsing semen to go. Sticky warmth was spurting in luscious torrents from my clenched ring and streaming down my silky ass-cheeks.
I fucked the body builder next. Ripped muscle snaked on the steroid hardness of his pumped pecs as he shoved his short, thick cock into me. It felt good. He did it good. I came for him bigtime too. I received his full load gratefully.
“… Yes… yes… c’m on… ple-eeeeeeeeease… fuck me hard…”
The fat guy took me from behind again. He fucked my ass. He couldn’t resist how slippery my ass-cleft was, what the black guy had done to my pulsing ring. The fat guy took his time. I sucked two or three different cocks before he unloaded.
My raw pussy stung deliciously. My slippery butt ached ecstatically. My breasts wallowed in my studs’ hot mouths.
Only Werner hadn’t fucked me.
Werner was their boss. He was the leader of this gang of brutes. Werner was the one who’d got my son into trouble… and Werner hadn’t even touched me yet…
… All Werner seemed to want to do was stroke his cock and deliver cutting remarks about my son and how Walt was ‘putty in his hands’… my genius son was nothing but a ‘dumb fuck’ when he drank whiskey and played poker with the guys…
He wouldn’t stop. Werner wouldn’t stop saying things about my son, how ‘Walt had a hang-up about his Mom’. He kept on and on. ‘Walt had major problems when it came to his mother’. He sneered and jeered: ‘Walt had an obsession with his Mom’s hot pussy’. ‘Walt couldn’t get enough of his mother’s hot cunt’. He said terrible things: ‘Walt felt ashamed and humiliated after he’d fucked me’. ‘Walt felt ashamed and humiliated while he fucked me’. Werner laughed out loud about how Walt couldn’t bear to show me his face while he raped me. Lies! All lies! None of it was true! Werner hated me, that was all. Werner was only saying it to torture me. Werner hated me so much he didn’t even want to have a shot at my voluptuous body.
I held his eye. I nodded at his stiff cock. I was out of my mind:
“… You gonna fuck me or what…?”
I was riding the black guy. The black guy was laid out on his back on the couch and his big cock was deep inside me enjoying how wet and wide open my pussy was after my tight ring, my wet cunt riding on every throb of his rock-hard shaft, undulating to the rhythm of the ecstasy building up inside me.
I looked Werner in the eye. I sneered:
“… Gonna get your five hundred dollars worth or what…?”
I shouldn’t have said it. There was too much hatred in his eyes. I knew instantly I should have kept my mouth shut. The glint in Werners lopsided eyes wasn’t desire. It was murderous rage. He’d kill me as soon as look at me. He grinned:
“No wonder Walt’s such a fucked-up little bastard, havin’ a slut of a Mom like you.”
He pumped his cock. It was long and raw and red, an inflamed red color like a dog’s slick spear. He leered:
“Yeah. I’m gonna get my five hundred bucks worth.”
He leapt. He jumped onto the couch like chimpanzee landing bow-legged on either side of the black guy’s legs, near where my tail-bone bucked and jerked.
I screamed out:
“… Hey… I never said you could do that…!”
He crooned:
“Fuck what you say, bitch.”
Once, long ago, my ex husband had suggested d.p-ing me with a friend of his.
I groaned:
“… C’m on then… c’m on…”
My husband had tried to d.p me with one of his sleazy mates. I’d refused with righteous indignation. Now I was begging for it.
Werner’s throbbing spear-head felt as sick and slippery as the rest of him. The black guy filled me too full to take any more. My ring was only twitching and jerking because the black guy’s big cock felt so good in my pussy, rock-hard and patient, letting me ride him any way I liked. There wasn’t room for Werner’s doggie spear.
“… Ow…!”
He’d had some sort of operation on his cock. His swollen tip was swathed in scar tissue. Werner had done something dreadful to his penis to make it longer and scarier than it already was.
He slammed it straight into my ring. He didn’t pause. He didn’t give me a chance to catch my breath.
“… Ow-eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee…!”
The black dude and the fat guy had loosened my ring real good, but it still hurt.
Werner hissed through clenched teeth:
“Like that do you, bitch?”
“… Yes… yes…”
I did. I couldn’t help it. I liked it a lot. It felt nice. I liked the way even Werner’s murderous prong turned to a slippery instrument of helpless desire impaling my sumptuous butt again and again. I reveled in the separate rhythms as their big cocks picked up speed, the black guy’s steady and endlessly patient, Werner’s deep stabs speeding towards a frantic desperation. I melted between the two men. I loved them. I loved even these thugs. I dissolved to a frantic membrane myself, a filmy ecstasy rutting between the savage throbs of the two men’s cocks.
“… Oh fuck…” My body undulated helplessly skewered on the rock-hard spears picking up speed slamming into my total surrender again and again.
“… Fuck… fu-uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck…!”
The two explosions went off almost together. Werner and the black guy pumped hot semen into my helpless meltdown, my body a voluptuous gelignite blanket drenched in liquid dynamite.
I lay crushed between them. The black guy was the bigger of the two, but Werner was heavy as well. I lay squashed between them, my bottom a slippery mess of hot cum, the black guy’s second load streaming from my stretched pussy and trickling down my inner thighs, Werner’s semen drenching my sumptuous ass-cheeks.
I fucked a couple more of them after that. I sucked more cock. At some stage hungry mouths feasted on my luscious tits, gargled my taut tight nipples in delicious throat honey. Everything became a blur. It was hard keeping track.
Some time during the wee small hours I heard them pulling their pants up, zipping up their flies, putting their shoes back on.
I lay on the couch bathed in spunk, too dazed to take in the details.
They were leaving. I must have given them their three thousand dollars worth.
I stayed lying on the couch.
Movement was impossible.
My mind wasn’t working right.
I heard the men leave the house.
The instant the front door closed behind them I felt a click in my brain. My brain stopped tingling. The light in my head went out. My mind reeled in pitch blackness.
The mellow turned to a poisonous stinging in my guts. The clicks froze in my spine. I clutched my knees and creased up on the couch. I was no longer brainwashed.
After a long while I looked at my watch, my only item of clothing.
Three o’clock. The street outside was still pitch-black.
They hadn’t had their full night’s service.
I shivered.
Perhaps Walt was right, if Walt was my stalker…
… No…
… No way…!
… I thrust the thought from my mind. It was impossible, except…
… Perhaps what Werner claimed my son had said about me was true…
… I did something to men’s heads… particularly to Walt’s head, to my own son’s mind…
Werner was right. ‘Walt’s frightened of his Mom’s hot cunt!’ It was true. I was irresistible. I was insatiable. They were all scared of me, but particularly my son.
I turned my head painfully.
A pile of IOUs littered the coffee table.
I staggered into the shower. My ring stung abominably. My pussy was a raw, throbbing ache.
I showered. I cleaned myself up as best I could.
I dried myself off.
The calendula cream and skin cream from my night in the gentlemen’s club helped a little.
I put my sensible nightie on. I left my fuck-me party dress on the living room floor. I couldn’t be bothered picking it up. There were glasses strewn about. Empty bottles… tomorrow… I felt exhausted. I was drop dead tired…
I switched all the lights off.
Walt still wasn’t home.
I tottered into my bedroom and collapsed on the bed. I sank into a fretful doze. I shut my eyes, but deep sleep was impossible. Their jeering voices kept on troubling me, mocking me, lying to me in the blackness:
‘Old Walt scared of a pussy as juicy as this?’
‘He can’t resist dear Mommy.’
‘Bitch likes a drink, same as her alcoholic son.’
‘Walt reckons she likes to suck a big one. Walt says his Mom throats real good.’
‘When he’s drunk Walt tells us everything.’
‘Bitch takes it in both holes.’
‘Hear that, man? She likes it’.
‘Go on, man. Give it a crack. Walt says she takes it up the ass real good.’
‘Walt’s frightened of his Mom’s hot cunt.’
It was impossible I refused to listen. They were only torturing me.
It was still dark when I heard the front door slam open, the door slamming into the wall.
Walt was home.
Lights came on.
I heard a crash, plates shattering on the floor.
He was drunk. He’d crashed into the dresser.
I could hear him out in the living room, muttering incoherently. I couldn’t make out a word he was saying, just that he was mumbling angrily.
I slipped out of bed. I hid in the darkness of my bedroom door.
I held my breath, ready to run if he came at me.
I looked out. He was paralytic. Walt was staggering drunk. My son was too inebriated to catch me if I made a dash for it, as long as he didn’t grab hold of me first.
He was leaning against the bathroom door trying to unzip his pants. The zip wouldn’t come undone. I could feel his anger, pure and raw, across the space of the living room.
The light came on in the bathroom.
He finally got his pants unzipped. He staggered into the tiled brightness and stood over the toilet bowl, urine spattering everywhere. It took forever for the stream of piss to stop.
He swung around, shaking the last drops off.
A gold ring, thick and smooth, like a gypsy’s earring, glistened in his cock’s pierced foreskin.
I slid backwards behind the door.
I went to cry out—’Walt?’— but something made me catch my breath.
My son didn’t see me. He was too busy trying unsuccessfully to zip his pants up to notice I’d seen him. He assumed his ‘hot’ Mom was sound asleep.
He staggered into his bedroom and the door slammed shut behind him.
I was appalled. I was terrified. I hid in my bedroom uncertain what to do. I’d slept with my own son. I’d had sex with the child I’d carried in my belly! I’d fucked the boy I’d given birth to and even worse… I’d enjoyed it… I’d taken ecstatic pleasure in my son’s big cock… even just servicing my hungry mouth from behind a glory-hole partition… even splayed over the back of a motorbike taking the full force of his cock and its hideous piercing up my butt… even whipped raw and fucked stupid in a torture chamber… I’d delighted in the abuse my son had subjected me to… even if he raped and killed me, in my crazy brainwashed state I’d be willing to let him do it… the state he was in, not just his drunkenness, that dreadful glitter in his eye, the fierce clenching of his jaw as he turned from the toilet bowl, the unsatisfied scowl on his forehead as he shook the last drops from his monster cock. Walt had turned into someone I didn’t know, a savage animal perfectly capable of raping and killing me!
I crouched in my bedroom. My heart was beating loud enough to wake him up.
No. Not a sound came from Walt’s bedroom except the fierce snoring of an inebriated beast.
I slipped into some clothes. Soon it would be morning. I packed a small suitcase, my most modest sundress, a pair of jeans, some simple T-shirts.
Creeping across my own living room, glancing in terror at my son’s bedroom door was the worst journey I’d ever made.
Outside the Eastern horizon was beginning to turn pale. The dawn chorus was starting up. My car started up with a growl loud enough to wake the dead but the front door didn’t swing open, no monster came pursuing me down the driveway.
I drove straight to Greg’s place. Thank God this kind, wise, noble, strong man had entered my life. I’d only been Doctor Bradford’s partner for a couple of days, but our love for one another was secure. If it weren’t for Greg I’d have nowhere to go. I had women friends but how could I entrust them with my shocking secret? Greg was a top scientist, a brilliant academic and inventor. He said he could find a way to stop Walt from brainwashing me. He was already working on stopping my son’s dreadful hold over my mind. He’d said he was close to a breakthrough. I prayed it might be soon. The next time Walt brainwashed me I might end up dead.
I rang Greg’s doorbell. The door opened. I flung myself into his arms. He held me tight. He knew I’d just ganged six brutal thugs and he still loved me. He held me close to his heart.
His fingers running through my hair were so reassuring I managed to blurt out what I’d seen:
“You were right! It’s Walt! My stalker’s Walt! I’ve done ghastly things with my own son!”
There was no ‘I-told-you-so’, not the slightest trace of disgust or reprimand in Greg’s face. I knew how it felt to be loved. Greg had suggested that my stalker might be Walt himself and I’d refused to believe him. Greg had raised the possibility that Walt wasn’t only brainwashing me, he was brainwashing me so he could possess my body when my mind was under his control. Greg had been right, and I’d been wrong, but our love survived.
I sat in Greg’s kitchen sipping the milky drink he’d fixed for me and told the man I loved my deepest fear:
“He’ll kill me next time, Greg. I know he will. He’ll rape me, then he’ll kill me. I saw it in his eyes.”
Greg’s eyes were grave. He knew I wasn’t lying. In his efforts to break the brainwash circuit, Greg had delved into my son’s mental state. He knew I wasn’t being hysterical.
He looked at me.
“We haven’t much time.”
He’d been working night and day on the radio wave technology Walt was using to brainwash me, but it was a long process. Even a scientist as brilliant as Doctor Bradford was having trouble understanding the remote control my son was exerting over my mind and body.
The lines around his wise brown eyes tightened. He took a deep breath:
“I’m nearly there, Christie. It won’t be long. A day or two. Maybe less. We’ve got to keep you safe till then.”
His eyes looked worried. He knew that once I was brainwashed there was nowhere safe for me. He looked at me:
“When I do de-encrypt the signals and snap Walt out of it, it’s going to be a terrible shock to your son’s system.”
He explained it in as simple a detail as he could.
It wasn’t just me Greg was worried about. It was Walt too. Walt had turned into a monster but he was still my son, and Greg’s formerly brilliant student.
“The Theta brainwave technology Walt’s been using on you has been having a vicious effect on him too. It’s turned him into a brutal predator, prepared to go to any lengths to satisfy his crazed lust.”
It was dreadful hearing my son spoken of in this way, but it was no more than the truth.
Walt had found a way to access, through his phone, the limbic region of my brain. Greg frowned:
“The limbic region is where the deepest animal instincts have their source, sex drive and the survival instinct.” Greg rubbed his mouth. “Walt’s found a way of energizing your brain’s limbic region, by energizing his own brain’s limbic region.”
Accessing the subconscious regions of my mind wasn’t enough, Walt needed to energize the sexual impulses hidden in my deepest neural cortices by transmitting his own supercharged lust into my head.
“… Energize…?”
I shuddered. My pussy was still luxuriating in the after-shock of six brutal cocks. I’d brushed my teeth a dozen times but I could still taste the Asian guy’s cum. My lust had certainly become ‘energized’.
Greg shook his head:
“Look. This is top secret, Christie. If this research gets out the consequences could be dreadful.”
He took something out of a safe on the wall. It was a strange contraption. It was a werid contraption shaped like a hair dryer helmet with heavy 3-D goggles like you wear in 3-D cinemas with all sorts of antennae and switches.
“It’s called a neuropanopticon. A friend, Doctor Graves, loaned it to me. It’s how I’ve been able to access Walt’s neural configurations.”
“… Configurations…?”
“Neural configurations. Walt’s developed something similar, a more primitive device to supercharge your sex drive when you’re in the brainwashed state.”
Sucking Walt’s cock at the glory-hole. Taking it up the ass in a clifftop car park. Climaxing again and again as my son slammed his monster cock into my hot cunt in the ‘gentlemen’s club. This nightmare had certainly supercharged me.
“But…” Greg raised his hand, forbade me to dwell on my perversions. “… Walt’s supercharged his own sex drive—no doubt already powerful enough to begin with—in the process. His hormones are out of control. His testosterone levels are off the chart. Sex has turned Walt into a perverted stalker…” He paused. “… Possibly a rapist and killer too…”
I felt numb. I didn’t want to believe it. How could such things be possible? This was far worse than my son merely flunking his exams and falling into bad company and racking up gambling debts.
“… But…” My eyes were blocked. Tears prickled at the backs of my eyes. “… But how did it start? Why? How could it all have happened?”
I knew the answer already.
Greg took my hand.
“Well. That’s simple. It started with Walt feeling sexual desire for you, Christie. You’re…” Greg blushed. “… You’re very attractive. Walt felt a strong sexual affection for you. He turned eighteen and the feeling got stronger. His mother was beautiful. She was still helplessly alluring. She was irresistible…” Greg’s crimson flush deepened. “… Walt fought against his desire. It was eating away at him…”
I blurted:
“… It was my fault…!”
Greg squeezed my hand.
“No. Of course not. Don’t say that. Of course it wasn’t your fault. Walt gave in to his desires. He was a brilliant student. He knew all the theory. He had the means to brainwash his mother at his fingertips. That first time you felt that click in your brain, the tingle of light in your mind, that was when Walt began implanting his lust into your brain.”
I shivered.
“… I’ve certainly been lustful…”
Greg smiled reassuringly.
“No you haven’t. You’re a nice person, Christie. You’re a good woman…” He didn’t need to say he loved me, I could see it in his eyes. “… At first Walt thought he’d only brainwash you for a few fairly innocent cuddles on the couch, make you buy the fuck-me clothes he wanted to see you in. But things quickly got out of control…”
He didn’t need to say any more. He knew how out of control things had got. They were getting even more out of control as he spoke.
“… What’ll I do…?”
He frowned:
“Well. You’ve got to stay here. You mustn’t leave the house. You’re safe as long as you’re here. Walt won’t try to get at you while you’re here.”
“… Get at me…?”
His eyes were grave:
“I’ll press on with my research. I’ll find a way to break the circuit between Walt and you. I have the know how, and the equipment…” He nodded at the neuropanopticon. “… It shouldn’t be long. A day. Maybe two…” A day, maybe two felt like an eternity. “… Maybe even sooner…”
Greg was certainly right when he said I’d be safe in his house. I felt safe in his house. Even when his research demanded he go to college and use the college laboratory, and I was alone in my new boyfriend’s beautiful, mullion-windowed home, I felt quite secure, no click in my brain, no tingle of light in my head, no clicks thrilling up my spine, no lovely mellow feeling engulfing my body.
I still paced from room to room but, constantly on edge. There were still moments when I felt terrified. My son was out there somewhere, prowling the streets. Walt knew where I was. He was stalking the city gathering up his power to brainwash me again.
It grew dark.
Greg rang me from college. The experiment he was working on was taking longer than he expected.
“Are you okay?”
“… Yes… yes… I’m fine…”
I didn’t feel fine at all. Greg could hear it in my voice. I wasn’t okay.
“There’s food in the fridge. Make yourself something to eat.”
“… Yes… yes… I will…”
I decided to get changed. I’d brought a couple of nice sundresses with me in my suitcase. Greg was helping me so much, I wanted to look nice for him when he got home.
I went into the bedroom. I opened my suitcase on the bed. It gave me a nice warm feeling knowing that Greg’s bed was my bed too now.
What to wear?
The green summer frock with the sunflowers on it? The nice blue sundress with sailboats?
I frowned.
Why on earth had I packed that?
In the bottom of my suitcase.
I wasn’t brainwashed when I packed my suitcase and escaped to Greg’s, why on earth had I brought…
… Skin-tight metallic gold jeans…?
I must have bought them without realizing, I hadn’t even tried them on yet, but I could tell they were skin-tight just lying in the bottom of my suitcase.
… Slit up the legs on both sides, the slits bound by a zigzag leather thong…?
Even just looking at them I could see how appallingly low on the hip the shiny metallic gold sat.
… And a matching metallic gold micro bikini top…?
You wouldn’t dare wear a thing like that on the beach, let alone out on the midnight streets.
Why had I bought something like that?
… The tiny gold triangles no way big enough to carry the sumptuous softness of my full, curvaceous tits…?
Never-the-less… it was crazy owning such an alluring outfit and not even trying it on… I hadn’t even been brainwashed when I chose it…
The click in my brain came loud and clear. A tingle of light flared in my brain. I shuddered. The clicks shivering up my spine were the most thrilling ever. The lovely, mellow feeling was more powerful than I’d ever felt it before, engulfing me from my painted toenails up to the tips of my lustrous blonde hair.
I took the fuck-me jeans and fuck-me bikini top out of the suitcase and spread them out on the bed. There was no point bringing them if I wasn’t going to try them on. An urgent warmth flowed through my body. Quickly, quickly.
The jeans were so tight I had to suck my stomach in to even pull the short zip up. Gold denim clung to my winged hips. The leather thongs sank zigzag signals up both legs, ankle to hip-bone, into my toned, silky skin. My split arched heplessly on a sudden wet slick.
Mm-mmmmmmmmm.
I tried the micro bikini top on. It was perfect. The tiny metallic-gold triangles were way too small to restrain all my succulent softness. Plenty of toned fullness slipped out on both sides. My breathtaking cleavage was on full display.
I climbed into the metallic-gold high-heel strappy sandals I’d been fortunate enough to bring along with me too.
I glanced in the mirror.
Man, I looked good.
Greg had told me not to leave the house. Greg said leaving the house was dangerous but that was ridiculous looking as good as this.
Even my face… plump, broad lips, high, chiseled cheekbones, cute retroussé nose and lustrous blonde hair… I was radiant…
There was no way I could stay at home Feeling as good as this. I needed to stretch my limbs, get out and about, show the world what I was made of.
I’d go for a drive.
What a good idea! Take the car for a spin. A short drive was okay. A cruise around the city, maybe even out into the country. The moon was already shining. They say the countryside looks beautiful in the moonlight. I couldn’t come to any harm just driving around.
I slipped out of the house and got into my car. Greg was working on saving me from Walt. He’d most likely spend the whole night in the laboratory. I’d be back long before Greg came home from college. The man I loved didn’t even need to know I’d been out.
Heading towards the river, I got the feeling I was being followed, but it was okay. I was safe in my car. My car had central locking. As long as I didn’t get out of the car I’d be safe.
I couldn’t see anything in my rear view mirror. This late at night there weren’t too many cars around. I was being stupid. Getting paranoid was silly.
The glint of gray paintwork a long way behind me, a gray vehicle flashing in and out of the shadows a long way behind me, too far to make out the registration number… had certainly been in my rear view mirror a long time now…
The clicks thrilling up my spine turned to a tingle of excitement. The lovely mellow feeling pulsed between my legs.
I turned back on myself at a roundabout, away from the city limits, and headed out towards the country. Nature on a moonlit night! What could be better?
The gray car, an Audi convertible with a black hood, was still on my tail.
My heart was racing. My stalker… no, not stalker… Walt… my son, Walt… was drawing up closer and closer behind me!
I saw a sign.
RIVERSIDE CARPARK.
I hadn’t been to the river for ages. There was a beautiful path along the edge of the water I hadn’t walked along for years.
I pulled into the carpark. If I was going to be raped it might as well be in a natural setting. If I was going to die it might as well be somewhere beautiful.
I set off along the narrow pathway. Glancing back I saw the Audi pulling in at the far end of the carpark.
The path was stony. My stiletto heels wobbled, but it was okay, it was a sexy wobble.
Thank God it was a moonlight night. My metallic-gold jeans dazzled in the dimness. My toned ass shone radioactive, for Walt’s eyes and Walt’s eyes only. I could feel him following me. Tight thongs dug into the silky perfection of my long slim legs, from my ankles right up to my split. He liked it. My son liked the outfit I’d chosen for tonight.
He was close behind me now. He could see the gold bikini strings digging into my supple spine, where my micro top was knotted tight at the back. He could feel how hot and luscious my toned breasts were, my sumptuous fullness held back by such such skimpy strings, my taut tight nipples pulsing at their tiny triangles of metallic gold dazzle.
There was a patch of grass and wildflowers.
He grabbed me from behind.
“Okay, bitch. This is it.”
Walt’s voice. There was no mistaking my son’s harsh tone.
“… Hey… get off me… stop it…!”
I kicked out. I thrashed and struggled. I knew he was going to fuck me, but propriety demanded I put up a fight.
He slapped me. My cheek stung.
“… Ow-www…!”
He already had my jeans unzipped, dragging me hard against him, peeling skin-tight gold denim down over my curvaceous butt.
He slapped me again even harder.
“… Ouch…!”
I staggered on wet grass, my jeans around my knees. He hissed:
“Been asking for this aint you, bitch? Been wanting this for eighteen fucking years, you filthy slut!”
My son was furious with me.
He threw me down on the grass.
My head cracked against a stone hidden in the long, dew-damp grass.
“… Ow-wwwwwwwwwwwwww…!”
Walt towered above me. His face was hidden by a black balaclava but I knew it was my son. He unzipped his pants.
“I’ve had enough of you, ho!”
His cock stood tall and raw and rock-hard in the moonlight, the gold ring twitching angrily in his stretched foreskin.
“Had enough of you to last me a lifetime!”
He was going to kill me. I could hear it in his voice. My son was looking forward to ending my life. Murdering his mother had got his penis fully erect already.
I screamed:
“… Walt…!… no… stop it… Wa-aaaaaaalt...!”
An insane laugh, like a bat’s screeching cry, took wing from the balaclava’s mouth slit.
“Walt? Who’s Walt? I don’t know no Walt!”
He kicked his pants off. He grabbed my jeans and wrenched them off over my ankles. I’d forgotten to wear a thong. My legs spread helplessly. My pussy’s luscious lips unfurled for him in the moonlight.
Who’s Walt? He wasn’t Walt any more. My son had gone. Walt had vanished forever. Walt had been replaced by a savage animal. After he raped me he was going to kill me.
I lay helpless on my back. His huge body reared between my legs. He pushed my moist thighs even wider apart.
He growled:
“This is all your fault, bitch. Aint got nothin’ to do with me!”
He was disowning me. I wasn’t his mother any more. His throbbing spear-head found my wet entrance.
“… Wa-aaaaaaaaalt…!”
He shuddered.
A shiver like a bolt of lightning ran through his body.
His mouth slit gaped.
He gasped, the shocked gasp of a little boy appalled at what he was doing.
In an instant Walt knelt trembling from head to toe between my legs, the eye holes in his balaclava filled with shocked disbelief.
He let go of his cock. His whole body was trembling. His penis was rapidly losing its its raw, slick stiffness. His big thing relaxed, long and thick and soft in the palm of his hand.
Greg’s words echoed in my mind:
‘When I do de-encrypt the signals and snap Walt out of it, it’s going to be a terrible shock to your son’s system.’
He’d done it! Greg had managed it just in time. He’d broken the circuit. He’d de-encrypted the signals and snapped Walt out of it!
I reached up.
I grabbed his balaclava.
I pulled it off.
I dragged black, terrorist wool away from my son’s beautiful face.
Walt’s eyes stared helplessly wide. His mouth gaped. His stunned face shone with helpless shock. He stared at me, appalled. He stared at his mother lying splayed and naked on the ground beneath him.
He murmured:
“Mom?”
He was my son again. I’d got my Walt back.
His beautiful hazel eyes were dazed and confused. He glanced around, at the river, the pathway, the moonlight.
His groan broke my heart:
“What have I done?”
He remembered. I yearned for the past to be gone, for him to forget. I longed for total amnesia to save my gorgeous boy. But forgetting was forbidden. I could see it in his eyes… the glory-hole… the clifftop… the gentlemen’s club… Walt remembered everything…
I whispered:
“… It’s alright… it’s okay… everything will be okay…” I needed to say it: “… I forgive you…”
On some deep level I couldn’t understand our ordeal had been my fault too.
He groaned:
“No! No! Never! You must never forgive me! You can’t! It’s all too horrible!”
I whispered:
“… No it isn’t… look…”
Greg’s words came back to me:
‘He turned eighteen and the feeling got stronger. His mother was beautiful. She was still helplessly alluring. She was irresistible. Walt fought against his desire. It was eating away at him.’
I knew what I had to do. Walt was hunky. My son was drop dead gorgeous. His face was pure eye candy in the moonlight. There was only one way I could keep this helpless desire from eating away at him, from eating away at me.
I murmured:
“… No… it isn’t all too horrible, Walt… look…”
I lifted his cock from his hand. Even all soft… it was so long and thick and heavy…!… the ghastly ring torturing his loosened foreskin.
I put it in my mouth. I clasped his cock’s heavy tip in a succulent moue. My plump lips massaged the gorgeous spear-head that had thrilled me at the glory-hole, and owned my ass across the back of his motorbike, and fucked me stupid hanging whipped and raw in the gentlemen’s club.
“… Mm-mmmmmmmmmmmmmm…”
“… Mo-ooom…”
His fingers ran through my hair. His fingertips ran gently, lovingly, patiently through my silky hair. His warm fingertips massaged the unknowable thoughts that were pulsing in my scalp.
His big cock uncoiled in the palm of my hand. His huge thing stiffened in the back of my mouth. Smooth gold twitched and butted. My son’s pulsing spear-head grew heavier and heavier in my spasming throat. I gargled his penis full weight in succulent gag and saliva.
“… Argh… argh…”
My son’s throbbing tip impaled my throat gullet-deep. His thick cock blocked off my air, more necessary than oxygen.
“… Mom… this isn’t right…”
Isn’t right? My glory-hole dude, my clifftop stud, my gentlemen’s club tormentor said it wasn’t right? I would have laughed out loud if the pulsations in my Adam’s apple weren’t growing too ecstatic to bear.
“… Glu-uuurg… gla-aaaaaaaaaaaaaarg… argh-lllllllllllllllllllll…”
My bikini top was gone. My toned tits quaked in his hands. He squeezed and kneaded the jelly-soft fullness of my sumptuous breasts. My taut tight nipples skated the broad palms of his hands, coaxed his strong fingers to sink in and probe and crush till his hands were squeezing the ecstatic beating of my heart.
“… Argh… argh… argh-lllllllll…”
He wasn’t my son anymore. I was no longer his mother. At least for this one time, Walt had been replaced by a strange new animal and I was his strange new animal mate. Walt had disowned me, and I’d disowned him. For this one night, we were two free, untrammeled, beautiful beasts.
I clamped his throbbing shaft between my teeth. I raked a loving love-bite up my son’s pounding piston. I combed voluptuous spasms from my son’s rock-hard cock.
“… Argh… argh… argh-lllllllllllllllllllll…”
I drew my mouth away.
Strings of gag and pre-cum glistened in the moonlight, uniting my mouth with his cock’s swollen tip. My stallion son was ready to fuck. The gold ring stood taut and twitching in intolerably stretched foreskin. I flicked it with my tongue. My juicy tongue-tip flirted with the band of gold tormenting his throbbing spear-head. I found the place where the chunky gold thinned to a clasp. I bit. I unfastened the clasp. The ring came away in my mouth. I hawked it up and spat it out in the grass.
I pumped my son’s tall thick cock with all the love I had in me. Now we were ready to fuck.
I groaned:
“… Just this one time, Walt… okay…?”
He moaned, an ecstatically wounded animal:
“… Yeah… okay…”
“… Just tonight… alright…?”
For a second he stopped breathing.
“… Alright…”
I insisted:
“… And then it’s over… okay…?”
“… Yeah… okay… alright, Mom…”
I pushed him down onto his back. He lay on the grass on his back. The grass was wet with dew. It itched my knees. I straddled his rock-hard cock. My toned split slithered on my son’s throbbing spear-head. My fuck-hole searched for his swollen tip.
“… Oh… oh… oh fuck…”
He reached up and clutched my tits. My heartbeat pulsed in his strong fingers.
My hands slipped and slid on his powerful pecs. I clawed his muscular chest with manicured nails.
“… Yes… yes…”
His throbbing spear-head filled my molten entrance. My son had fucked me multiple times already but this was different. My luscious cunt was taking his big cock, freed of its hideous piercing, for the very first, and very last, time.
“… Oh fuck… fu-uuuuuuuuuck…”
My pussy’s sopping lips clutched at his pulsing thickness, clutched and let go, cumming instantly, helplessly, ecstatically. My molten entrance rutted on the merest touch of my son’s swollen tip.
“… Fu-uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck…!”
He grabbed my hips and pulled me down hard and fast and deep onto his throbbing spear. His cock leapt and pulsed deep in my sopping depths. My fuck-hole went into meltdown. My hot gash rode ecstatically on my beloved son’s heavy stabs.
“… Yes… yes… ple-eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease…”
I didn’t know what I was begging for, just that my need was endless.
His arms went round me. He gripped me tight. We rolled over like two drowning people clutching each other fast in a stormy ocean. He rolled on top of me, never once pausing, his throbbing cock impaling every pore of my body, his heavy spear sinking pile-driver after ecstatic pile-driver into my sopping surrender.
“… Yes… yes…”
My tail-bone kicked. My butt lifted in helpless abandon. My pussy jerked and bucked. My hot fuck-hole rutted on my son’s savage stabs. A voluptuous tsunami broke over our helplessly undulating bodies.
“… Ye-eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees…!”
My toes tingled in a sudden new warmth. The backs of my knees, my ass-cheeks slithering in wet grass blades taking the full weight of my son’s heavy thrusts, my hips, my shoulder-blades, my wet hair, the back of my head drowned in the succulent warmth of my son’s hot cum. Walt’s gorgeous cock pumped surge after surge of throbbing semen into my cunt’s molten depths.
It was over.
Walt couldn’t lie on top of me forever, his cock throbbing deliciously as it relaxed in my drenched gash.
We didn’t speak.
The time came. Walt pulled out. His slippery cock released a spate of warm semen and pussy juice from my pulsing fuck-hole. A delicious landslide of hot cum cascaded down my silky ass-cheeks.
We kissed, one last passionate mother-to-son kiss.
I tousled his hair:
“… That’s it, Walt… it’s the last time this is ever happening…”
He nodded. He understood. The satisfied look in his eyes said he understood completely.
“… I’m marrying Greg… I’m going to be Greg’s wife…”
Greg would understand about tonight. Greg understood everything.
Walt smiled:
“That’s great.”
He meant it. Even after all we’d been through, Walt still respected his teacher. He knew what a good man Greg was.
I stroked my son’s chest:
“… You’ll just have to find yourself a proper girlfriend, alright…?” He was so hunky that wouldn’t be a problem. “… And stay away from Werner and those thugs of his! The debt’s paid off, okay?”
His face flushed in the moonlight.
“… Yeah… okay, Mom…”
Everything looked set fair.
There was only one problem.
A fortnight passed and my period didn’t show up.
I waited with bated breath… a week… two weeks… still no sign of my time of month…
A whole month passed. A felt this tightness in my belly, a slight swelling of my silky stomach…
… I was pregnant…
Surely not by my son! It couldn’t be!
I put on weight around the hips. My breasts grew tighter and heavier. Three months passed and I still hadn’t had a DNA test done. I dreaded what the results would be.
Greg was delighted. My new husband was over the moon. It would kill him to discover I was pregnant by Walt.
My time came.
I gave birth to a beautiful little boy… his hazel eyes, his bright, alert gaze, the spitting image of Greg’s hazel eyes and bright, alert gaze… when he grew a little older Charlie’s blonde hair promised to be as dense and grizzled as my husband’s… Greg had knocked me up our very first time, on the desk in his office, my cervix mouthing for his delicious semen, Greg’s hot cum drenching the place where babies are made a day before I took Walt’s load cervix-deep in the torture chamber. Lady Luck was on my side.
Walt found himself a nice girlfriend, smoking hot but with a pleasant smile.
Sometimes when he saw me, my son blushed:
“I don’t know if the gypsy look quite suits you, Mom.”
Thirty-seven years of age, I was a bit old to wear a gold earring, but I liked the look.
I felt around in the grass that moonlit night and found it spat-out in the dewy grass-blades and took it home, clenched in my fist. I liked the weight of the chunky gold in my ear, its smooth feel where it pierced my earlobe. It reminded me that life has its problems but love will always come out on top.