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Bobby's Mother
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
bobbymom.txt
Bobby's Mother
"Incest is Best!"
That's the chant that I heard as a taunt as boys when we
teased about sex. Most of them had only had sex with their hands
and pillows and what ever else boys jack off with. We would sit in
a group in some distant place, whispering our fears more than our
knowledge. Finally someone would mention Bobby's sister. She had
big tits and wore tight skirts and was fifteen. That's when we
would taunt him with 'Incest is Best'.
Later, each of us would find our secret place; the bathroom,
bed or closet and jack off thinking about Bobby's sister and
wishing we were him. We knew just how we would fuck her.
Bobby's sister was fucked a million times by us in our minds.
We don't know if Bobby fucked her in his mind or for real. He
always brushed our comments aside but there was something about his
lack of conviction that made me wonder.
Then on hot summer day, I went by Bobby's house to see if he
wanted to ride bikes down to the river. I knocked on the screen
door at the kitchen and nothing happened. I could hear the roar of
the big old box fan that his mother sat in the window to pull air
in. I knocked again. Just the fan.
I turned to leave when I heard the funny sound deep inside
the old house. I listened and I heard it again. It was like a
gurgle. All kinds of strange and horrible images flashed through
my boy's mind. Afraid to go in and afraid to leave I knocked again.
Nothing. Then the gurgling sound.
I eased the screen door open and stepped inside. On the forth
step into the kitchen, the floor creaked and I froze. I could just
see some mad killer bursting into the room and slashing me to bits.
The sound came again and this time lasted longer. Visions of
heroics flashed into my adolescent mind as I envisioned rescuing
Bobby and his family from the wrath of a psycho killer.
A little braver, I crept into the hall and edged down the dark
cavern. The roar of the fan was louder. At the edge of a door, I
hung suspended. The sound was there again and I could hear the
creak of bed springs. For what seemed like years I edged toward the
door. Inch by inch I moved my left eye to the edge of the door. I
don't think I made a noise but inside my mind I heard this loud
gasp.
On the bed were two naked, sweating people. Bobby's mother
lay on her back, her large breasts rolling in waves with the motion
of the bed. The dark nipples were pointing toward the ceiling. Her
red fingernails clutched at the round ass that worked between her
skewed thighs. Her eyes were clamped shut and she gurgled and
rasped each time the hips between her thighs slammed against her.
The body on top of her worked back and forth and the bed springs
creaked with each thrust.
Here was my first unmasked, naked exposure to passion. I was
entranced until I looked again. The sounds and smells of sex
flooded my senses as I watched the hard shaft of a cock piston in
and out of the drooling cunt. The body on the end of the cock was
Bobby! He was lost in the throes of passion, fucking his mother!
Just then, the woman began to jerk and bouce, lifting Bobby
totally off the bed. Her mouth gaped open and she moaned and
gasped. Her fingers clutched at Bobby's plunging ass cheeks.
"Give it to Mamma!" she rasped. "Fuck me hard, Baby!"
Between their mouth and body noises and the rattle and creak
of the old bed, I probably could have screamed and they would never
have heard it. I didn't I was frozen. Wided eyed I stared a the
final jerks and thrusts and watched them collapse into a wheezing,
sweating heap.
The hard-on in my jeans raked across the door facing as I
finally torn myself away from the scene. Blood was pounding in my
head and in my dick. I crept back to the screen door and slipped
out.
A strange mixture of emotions haunted me for several days. I
was in possession of a secret that was too large for my years. I
tired to act the same around Bobby but I wasn't having much luck.
Finally, one afternoon, while sitting in the bathroom, the picture
of those two sweating bodies came back and my dick was instantly
hard. I remembered the smells and sounds and before I could think
about it, my hand found my cock and I was shooting a load that
seemed to last forever. As the last few ripples of pleasure coursed
through me I remembered the violence on the bed as they had done
the same.
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