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DDM (06/13)
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.
WARNING!
The following story contains detailed descriptions of sex acts between
family members (incest), and between humans and animals (bestiality).
If you are offended by such material, please stop reading now!
<< Danny Does Mom / Part 4b >>
She missed Dan at breakfast. Art's exuberance was the only thing
that salvaged the meal. She thought she'd not seen him as enthusiastic and
warm since their marriage. After he'd left the house, she turned to her
never-ending dusting and vacuuming with a glow of satisfaction in her
decision. Despite that crutch to her morale, however, there were times
during the day when she felt she was experiencing a bleakness even worse
than she'd suffered when she became pregnant with Dan. And she felt
sharp pangs of guilt over having shunted Dan off the night before. As a
gesture of restitution, she baked bread and cookies in the afternoon.
Danny appeared to have felt the situation as strongly as she. He was
early. "Shortcuts," he offered when she remarked on the fact. And he was
effusive, hugging her affectionately before letting her see the way his
nose wiggled at the scents that floated from the kitchen. She kissed him
again, then watched his broad shoulders sway as he hurried toward the
smells, his black hair swishing on his neck. The day was a good one after
all.
With her tensions dissolving, she sighed and remembered she hadn't
had her bath. She called to Dan that she'd be in her room for a while and
went back to draw water in the sunken tub. She poured a double portion of
bubble-bath and began to undress. As an afterthought, while she was
knotting the belt on her dressing gown, she loosened the knot, slipped out
of the severe garment and laid it aside.
'Not me,' she thought. 'That's the old modesty.' She went to the radio
on the dresser, tuned it to an FM station with a program of the older,
romantic music, and went back to the bathroom, shivering at her
nakedness and leaving the door open so she could relax to the music. She
slipped gratefully into the water and sank into the mounds of bubbles. It
was a fine day, she decided, and it would be even better when she had her
man at home.
"Mom! . . . Mom! . . . " Dan's voice came from the other end of the
house.
"Yes?" she called.
It appeared he hadn't heard her. He continued to shout, no urgency in
his tone, as he roamed the house looking for her. She smiled. 'Always,'
she
thought. 'Always the same. And it doesn't matter what he wants to tell me.
It's just being able to when he wants to.'
"Mom!"
"Yes, Danny!"
"Oh, Mom?"
"What?"
He could tell her from the bedroom, calling through the open doors.
'It would never do to wait,' she reflected. 'Not for Danny.'
"I'm in here," she called.
Oh. Okay." He'd reached the bedroom, she decided. "Hey, Mom. I
wondered if . . . "
She gasped. Danny loomed in the doorway, his eyes getting round as
he realized she was in the tub. He appeared to be paralyzed, his gaze
fixed
on her suds-flecked breasts and his mouth still open.
"Mom! I . . . "
She realized suddenly she'd been paralyzed, too. With a burst of
motion, she slid down into the water until only her head remained exposed.
"Danny!"
"Gee, Mom! I didn't know . . . I mean, the door's . . . "
"It's . . . it's all right, Danny. My fault. Never mind. What was it?"
He shuffled from one foot to the other, his face flushed.
'He doesn't know what to do,' she realized. 'He can't sink through the
floor, and turning around and running would be too undignified at his age.
He's trying to figure out how to appear casual - how to look blase about
it
all.'
Dan drew a deep breath and squared his shoulders. Crossing to the
toilet, he seated himself on the closed lid and leaned against the tank.
"I
get it, I guess," he said.
"Hm?"
"It's like they said at school. You know, in Social Adjustments. About
us getting to the age when it's time to start learning the facts of life."
"Oh," she replied weakly. "What was it you wanted?"
"Huh? Oh! I wanted you to come look at Smokey. He was doing a new
trick . . . bowing." Danny grinned. "Sure looked funny with his rump in
the
air and his knees on the ground."
She giggled. Her mental image of the tiny donkey, his ears as big as
he was, bowing to Danny provided a trigger to release the tension in the
situation. "I wish I could. See it, I mean."
"He'll do it whenever I tell him now," said Danny airily. He gazed
thoughtfully at her. "Mom, sometimes I just can't get over how
complicated you and Dad are."
"How do you mean?"
Well, I mean you're too complicated for me to figure out yet. Like I
think I know exactly what you think - I figure a rule is because
something's just right or wrong - and then all of a sudden I find out it
was
just because you didn't think I was old enough. Like not talking about
Dad's
salary. I used to think it was some kind of big secret no one ever knew.
And then I got old enough you knew I wouldn't go around yakking about it.
Or like knowing what I was . . . about not knowing I was half Indian until
last year. Same thing. And I always figured people seeing other people
without their clothes on was something you and Dad had a hang-up about. I
was wondering how a guy learned all that stuff they were talking about in
Social Adjustments - except the theoretical junk, I mean. All of a sudden
it turns out I was just too young for that, too." He grinned sheepishly.
"Shoulda known better."
"Yes." Her voice caught in her throat. 'I'm trapped!' she thought. 'My
God, there's nothing I can do!' And then, 'Yes there is! I can tell him
that
this is one time that it isn't a matter of how old he is!'
But Danny had leaned toward her and was continuing in his little boy,
confidential tone. "I'm glad, Mom. I did want to know, and the books and
pictures just didn't do it. Besides, I've been feeling awful funny some of
the time. I've been dreaming things and thinking funny things when I look
at girls - or women." He stared meaningfully at her.
'No! Oh, no!' she thought wildly. She wasn't going to be able to tell
him this was a special case. Not after he'd revealed himself to her so
honestly. She steeled herself and pushed herself slowly back to a sitting
position, deliberately letting the foam slide off her breasts, leaving
them
shiny and smooth beneath her son's wide-eyed stare.
His eyes were like a physical caress on her breasts and she felt her
nipples swell, harden, and stand erect.
"Danny, get the towel . . . that big, thick green one."
"Huh? Oh, okay." He rose and brought the towel.
Helen's hand trembled as she pushed the lever to drain the tub. She
extended her arm toward Danny. "Help me out," she said, her lips dry with
fear.
Danny took her hand and lifted while she climbed out of the sunken
tub to stand before him on the tile. She saw his body tense as his gaze
fell
to the rich auburn of her pubic hair. Again, his glance was like a touch
and
she was uncomfortably aware of the sudden tightening in her pussy.
"You dry me." she said, forcing a smile. "I'll be the queen."
Danny laughed self-consciously and began to towel her. She winced
but smiled more broadly at the way he lingered while he dried her breasts.
And she rose to the balls of her feet and grabbed his shoulders when he
pressed too long into the sensitive flesh of her pussy.
"All right!" she whispered. "All right, Danny! Thank you."
"Did I do okay, Mom? Do I get the job?
'Get the job?' Alarm flared. "What do you mean?"
"You gonna wait for your bath 'til I get home from now on so I can
dry you?"
"Danny!"
"Didn't I do it good?"
"Yes . . . Yes, you get the job, Danny."
He let his glance sweep over her, taking in the glow of her skin and
the firm curves of her flesh. Admiration was so clearly evident in his
expression that she couldn't bring herself to resent the frank interest.
For
a moment, then, they were frozen in uncertainty, while Helen wondered
how to bring the episode to a close and struggled against the rising wave
of awareness that pervaded her.
"Gee, Mom! That's great!" said Danny, starting as if suddenly
conscious of his concentrated survey. "Just great! About the stuff from
that class . . . "
He was now counting on her help, she knew. She had allowed him to
think she'd provide it and he'd see no reason why any other time would be
better than now. He certainly wouldn't forget the commitment. And if she
was going to yield on that point, delay would buy nothing.
"Okay," she murmured. "What about it? What would help most?"
"Well . . . " he hesitated. "Well, there was a lot of stuff about how
girls are . . . well, put together. About how women are built. It's just
hard
to visualize. And that was way at the start of the semester!"
"I . . . I'll show you." She was finding it hard to breath. She was going
to let him examine her and the bed - any bed - would be too suggestive.
"What time is it, Danny?" she asked.
"Hm . . . two-thirty."
Art would get home at six or a little after. No one else would come
before then. She could choose the setting without fear of interruption.
She
braced herself and smiled. "Okay. There's time. Come on, son."
Danny followed her into the dining room, looking puzzled.
"I'll get on the table," she said, fighting for calm. "Just like an
examining table. That way, you can move around any way you need to."
Danny studied the drop leaf table, now standing against the window
with its leaves down. He brightened. "Hey, Mom! Super!"
"Move it away from the wall so you can get to the other side if you
want to."
"Okay."
He moved the table away from the wall and stood back.
"Need help, Mom?"
"I'll make it." She hitched herself onto the end of the table and
hesitated a moment before laying back.
She was suddenly reminded of her first visit to the gynecologist. It
had been the exact same set of emotions then as now. Nervous because she
didn't know exactly what was going to happen and a touch of guilt because
she knew she was going to find it exciting.
It was all she could do to avoid folding her hands over her crotch,
but she folded them under the back of her head instead, and winced at the
expression of sudden new interest in Danny's eyes.
"Gee! That makes you look different!"
"How?"
"Well, I mean the way it makes your ribs stand up and stretches your
. . . your breasts!"
"Oh." She levered herself backwards and lifted her knees, setting her
heels against her buttocks. "All right, Son. Find out what you need to
know." She slid her feet outward to the sides and let her knees fall away
from each other. The air chilled her twat and sent a sharp tingle into her
belly.
Danny bent over her to peer intently at her breasts. He probed at the
bulging surfaces with a finger and a look of awe passed over his face. The
touch of his finger was like that of an electrode to Helen. She drew a
deep
breath, embarrassed at the quivery sound. And when he took a nipple
between his fingers, rolling it and exploring its texture, she gasped
audibly.
"Mmmmm!"
He jerked his hand away. "Mom! Did I hurt you? I'm sorry! Oh, Mom!"
"No, no!" She was distressed at his agitation. "You didn't do anything
wrong, Son! It's just that some spots are awfully sensitive. They're
supposed to be. Go ahead; just don't be surprised when I jerk or make a
noise."
He grinned. "Okay. If you say so, Mom." He resumed his examination of
her breasts and she tensed against the growing flood of tremors his
fingers produced.
Despite her efforts, muscles fluttered involuntarily and a primitive
excitement heated her. She suspected - and then became thoroughly
convinced - that Danny was teasing her. He'd certainly had time to
complete his familiarization, yet he continued to manipulate her nipples.
She knew she couldn't absorb much more of that kind of stimulus without
making some major - and unmistakable - body movement.
She protested, trying to make it sound light. "Danny! That's not fair!"
He laughed and gave each nipple a last affectionate tweak. "Okay,
Mom."
He tweaked harder than he had been and a powerful jolt of
excitement raced through her. She felt a gush of warmth in her pussy and
groaned knowing that she'd started to ooze. Danny went around the table to
stand at her feet and she turned her head, looking out the window, into
the
side yard. But curiosity tugged hard at her as she felt Danny's hands on
her
knees. Gently, he pushed them further apart and down until her crotch was
spread as far as it would go. She felt the slow parting of her pussy lips,
their sticky surfaces separating reluctantly, and shuddered at the
realization that her vagina was opening before her son's eyes.
She forced herself to look at him. His head was lowered and he was
staring wide-eyed into the pink playground. As if he were unaware of their
movement, his hands stroked down along the inner slopes of her thighs
toward her crotch. Her legs twitched and she felt an involuntary
tightening in her buttocks.
'Oh, no!' she thought. 'I mustn't poke it at him! Dear God, don't let my
hips jerk!'
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