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DDM (10/13)
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 7 >>
Chapter 7
Danny objected to going to school. "No!" he yelled at her. "It'll be
hours before Dad gets home! That's time for all kinds of games!"
"Dan Frederickson, you're going to school! We've both had enough for
one session!"
He shook his head, childish stubbornness clear in his features. "Mom!
You spoil everything!"
"I didn't notice you complaining about my spoiling things last night!"
"Oh, that was different! I mean making me go to school when you're
right here!"
"Well that's too bad. Maybe I need a rest. Now get ready, before I get
mad!"
He grumbled and kicked at each chair he passed, but he got ready for
school. When she went to the door with him, he paused as if for her
customary "goodbye" peck. She stood on tiptoe to kiss him, her hands
resting against his chest, and he gathered her to him. He grabbed one of
her breasts, massaging it eagerly, then pulled up her skirt and thrust his
hand inside her panties and dug his fingers into her cunt. She squirmed
wildly but without success, and when Danny withdrew his hand and opened
the door, she was a quivering mass of confusion. She blew him a kiss and
muttered, angry at herself for losing control of the situation and at her
son for his impudence.
She raced through the most urgent of her housekeeping chores, her
thoughts far from domestic routine. Danny's hasty feeling-up had
thoroughly aroused her, and she was angrily conscious of the fact that it
would be hours before Art got home. She argued with herself.
"You've really made it," she said. "All the way. When a woman turns
her own son into a cunt-crazy machine, she's hit the bottom!" She gazed
through the window. 'Oh, God, Helen! Just what have you done? What's
going to happen?' she shuddered.
She drained the sink and dried her hands. Pulsing with raw sexual
desire and seething with self-contempt she rushed from the house. 'And
what's the big fuss?' she asked herself. 'You were afraid you were going
to
lose your husband? You did what had to be done, didn't you?' Sinking to
her
knees before a rich-blooming rose, she inhaled its sweetness. "Oh, God!"
'Did I? How can the things I've done possibly give me the happiness of a
secure home? And yet Art wants physical woman! He's got to have
someone who goes wild with sex hunger with him! And if i'm going to be
that self, that's what I'll have to be. There's only two of me; the one
Grandma made and the one I inherited from Mama and Daddy. If I can't be
one, I've go tot be the other.'
She choked back a sob. It didn't seem right to cry about it. She'd been
free to make her decision and her father had repeatedly sneered at people
who spent their lives regretting their decisions. "Christ Almighty!" he'd
always said. "When a guy makes up his mind, he shuts a door on the other
alternative! He's got to live with what he took, and there's no damn
excuse
for looking at the bad side of that!"
'There's no damn excuse for looking at the bad side of it,' she
repeated now. 'For fifteen and a half years I've fought with myself. I've
stamped out every dirty thought the instant I had it and frozen ever
wiggle
of excitement. That's the way it had to be if I wanted to be like Grandma.
All right! The dirty-minded, cock-hungry slut was the natural me all the
time! Now I know that's what Art wants, and it means doing what my
impulses say; that's all!'
She raised her eyes to gaze at tiny, puffball clouds as they drifted
across the sky. 'All I have to remember is that's good, now, instead of
bad? Let yourself go, Helen-baby! Do what you feel like, and the dirtier
the
better!' She squeezed her breasts and felt a surge of warmth, then grinned
ruefully and shook her head. "No, stupid! Not like that!" She unbuttoned
her
dress from the throat to the waist and shrugged out of it, then struggled
out of her bra and squeezed the naked globes. She trembled at the hot
flush
of pleasure. "Like this!" Teasing her own nipples, she flung back her head
and laughed with joy. Her old self would hate the new, but life was going
to be another thing when she could give herself without reserve to the
sensations that arose around her.
'And then there's Smokey! I'll bet he doesn't care if I'm tied up or
not! And I'll bet it would be a lot better if I weren't!' She swung her
bra by
its strap and let her dress dangle from where it had settled, riding on
her
hips. She shivered with a sense of wicked pleasure at the risque picture
she made, her boobs swaying, her navel exposed, and most of her lower
belly visible as she strode toward the hidden corral and the frustrated
little donkey.
She undressed and hung her clothes over the top rail before she went
in. "The hell with the gate!" she exclaimed. "More fun to climb over!" She
perched astride the rail for a moment, squirming at the harsh intimacy
between it and her pussy. The she scrambled down and dug her toes into
the organic soil and crossed to the feed table.
"Smokey?" she called. "Smokey! . . . Come on, baby! Come and get a
piece of ass!"
Smokey shuffled toward her, his neck extended and his ears forward.
She lay across the narrow plank, gripping its edge tightly and raising her
knees. As the donkey came closer she spread her thighs and let him sniff
her pussy. He licked, his tongue rough and impatient on her cunt, and he
probed deep into her vagina, making her belly writhe.
"Good! Good baby! Oooh, Smokey, that's scrumptious!"
Smokey jerked his tongue free and tossed his head with a snort.
Helen twisted to look under his belly and saw his cock swelling and
lengthening. The beast quivered and pawed the ground.
"Wonderful! Wonderful, Smokey! You know!" She lowered her feet,
touching the earth with her toes, her thighs widespread. "Come on, baby.
Up between my legs!"
The donkey snorted again and reared on his short hind legs, taking a
series of short, clumsy steps to position himself in the notch her legs
made. She caught his forepaws to guide them clear of her belly, then
reached under him and guided his prick to her cunt. His rump prodded and
the bulky cockhead began to work against the tightness of her rim. She
swung her legs around him and pulled fiercely, jerking herself onto the
great cock and gagging happily when it crowded her guts.
"Ahhh! Ohhh, Smokey-baby! Fuck me good!" She grabbed his neck and
hauled herself against him, his bristles stabbing her belly and gouging
her
tits. She pumped her ass, bouncing on his enormous shaft, and he banged at
her until she was battering against the plank.
"God, yes, Smokey! Hit me! Hit me hard, baby!" Her cunt flamed with
hunger and gulped the grotesque feast it held. Helen let go with her hands
and flung her arms back, letting herself arch backward over the edge of
the table. Her breasts jounced crazily and her fingers touched the ground.
She knew she'd see the moving lump on her belly of the buried cockhead, if
she only wanted to look. But she was starting to cum, and she didn't need
to see. Her thighs clamped convulsively on Smokey's sides, his stiff hair
digging at her tender flesh like handfuls of needles. Smokey backed
suddenly, as if startled at something, and she felt herself dragged off
the
table. She hung head down beneath him, supported by the grip of her legs
and pulling herself against his belly, his cock fully implanted in her.
She
continued to pump while she came, and Smokey's hindquarters continued to
oscillate savagely.
His cock leaped abruptly within her and he threw his head up and
brayed. His widely planted forelegs shook in Helen's grasp and she sobbed
with overwrought awareness, pumping her hips slowly, sliding her stuffed
pussy sensuously on his spurting cockshaft while his hot flood filled her.
When the pulsing sensations at the mouth of her cunt subsided and the
donkey's cock started to go soft, she loosened the grip of her legs and
let
herself slide off him to the ground. She rolled weakly aside, clear of his
hooves, and pushed herself erect.
"Thank you, you walking cock. Thank you!" She went to him and
hugged his ugly head, rubbing her tits against his face, then went to the
corner of the corral and used the watering hose to rinse off the thick cum
that trickled from her pussy. She took a cold douche and got dressed,
leaving the corral with a bouncy step and a satisfied smile.
"All right!" she called to the clouds. "Okay! You saw that! Am I dirty
enough? Am I doing all right or not?"
She returned to the house and made a perfunctory effort to
straighten it. But she was too impatient for Art's arrival to care whether
there was dust in the corners or not. At ten o-clock she made up her mind
to shock him. "Like he'd want to be shocked," she said confidently. She
found the bra and panties Danny had brought to her the night before. She
stripped quickly and got into the revealing garments, then waited
nervously.
She heard Art's car, peeked through the window to be sure it was
him, and went to the center of the living room. When Art opened the door,
he dropped his briefcase.
"Holy Jesus!" he exclaimed. "Is that you, Helen?"
"Of course! Honey, I've missed you something awful!"
"Sonovabitch!" He sprang across the room and crushed her in his
arms.
"Honey!" she exclaimed over his shoulder. "Honey! You left the front
door wide open!"
"Oh, shit! What's wrong with me!" He swung around, holing her in one
arm, and went back to the door. Her toes dragged on the floor and she
clung
fiercely to him. He teased her, holding her before him in the open doorway
and fingering her twat through the slit in her panties.
She was torn between hard-dying inhibitions and her new
determination to ignore them. "Art!" she gasped, her glance darting up and
down the street. "Art, honey! My God, sombody'll see us!" And then,
pressing her head back against him and thrusting her knees apart. "To hell
with it! Let them! Oh, rub, honey!"
Art crushed her clitoris with his fingers and she thrashed in his
grip. She heard the solid "chunk" of a closing door.
Art carried her to the couch and dropped her on it. She lay as she
fell, legs asprawl and arms extended, and watched him through half-
closed eyes while he undressed. When he pushed his shorts off his hips,
his
cock leaped, dark with heat, the head halfway out of the foreskin. She
rolled off the couch to her knees and flung her arms around Art's hips,
kissing the heavy prick eagerly. She ran the tip of her tongue around the
edge of his foreskin and lipped the tip of his cockhead.
Her husband buried his hands in her hair and tilted her head back,
gazing into her face with a puzzled expression. "What's with you, baby?"
he asked. "I don't know where you hid Helen, but you're sure a hell
somebody else!" A grin grew slowly.
Helen trembled. "I'm me," she murmured. "I'm me, with the
pretending gone. I'm who you really married." She pressed her boobs
against his thighs. "Want to know about me?"
"Sometime," he said softly. "Not right now. I want to get to know
you."
He loosened his grip and she put her lips to the nose of his cock. She
sucked at it for a time and then forced her mouth over the entire head,
biting gently on the foreskin and pushing it gently back onto his shaft.
She
played her tongue over his slit and listened to his breath hiss. To her
delighted surprise, the sense of guilt that had nagged her for the past
twenty-four hours evaporated. In its place, she felt a glow of pleasure in
the knowledge she was giving him pleasure. 'And that's not just cock
hunger!' she thought. 'I'm dying to get this beautiful cock into my pussy,
but that's a different feeling.'
The appearance in Art's belly grew more pronounced. His flesh
twitched and he twisted his hips slowly. At last he caught her under the
armpits and raised her to her feet. "Come on, baby. Time we tried out
those fancypants." He glanced at her nipples, outthrust by the upward
force of her bra's half-cups, and his eyes gleamed. "And that titty-
vendor," he added with a grin.
He took her to the dining room, where he pulled one of the straight
chairs away from the wall. Seating himself on the edge, he drew her
toward him. She straddled his lap, her twat hovering above his cock, and
he straightened the rigid member with its head nuzzling her. She pulled
the slit of her panties open and squatted, breathing deeply as she felt
the
knob of his cockhead settle into her gash.
"Mmm! Mmm!" she exclaimed. "I'm so hot for you, honey! God, this
feels good!"
Her cunt stretched to engulf Art's cockhead and she let herself slip
down the erect shaft. She lifted her feet, hooking her insteps over her
husband's thighs, and rocked on his cock. He balanced her, his hands at
her
waist, and bent forward to suck at her nipples.
He pulled his mouth away for a moment. "If it's all right, that is," he
said.
"If what's all right?" She shook with pleasure and made no sense out
of his remark.
"Sucking your tits."
She whispered, "Don't be mean now, honey. Just fuck!"
Amazement flashed in his eyes. "Did you say what I thought you did?"
"Please!" she wailed. "Don't spoil it!"
"Sorry, baby. All the way this time, huh? Nothing barred?"
"Oh God, honey! Do I have to draw a picture?"
"No. Just wiggle that pussy a little harder, okay?" He grabbed her
nipple again and began to chew it.
She levered her hips, grinding her pussy on the base of his cock and
feeling the head thrust back and forth in her belly. Her hands fluttered.
She
caught Art's face between them and fingered his temples, rocking her head
back and gazing at the ceiling.
"Honey! Ohhh, Honey!" she exclaimed. Shudders of pleasure racked her
body. "Whew! . . . Whew! . . . Mmmm, yesss!"
Art let go of her tit and grunted. "Hey, baby! I'm about to get off! You
think you can cum?"
"Try me!" she forced the words past clenched teeth. "Oh, quick,
honey!"
He arched, his neck on the chair back and his ass thrusting upward
off the seat. She straightened her legs, extending them to the sides, and
felt the hardness of his hip joints digging into the flesh of her inner
thigh
muscles. His fingers squeezed her waist while she clutched fiercely at his
wrists.
"Ummmmh! Baby! . . . BABY!" She swayed with the pulse of her lust.
Art bucked under her, stabbing his rigid cockshaft up into her,
uttered an explosive grunt and spewed jism into her. She flinched at the
violence of her contractions and ground her teeth together. When her
orgasm released its grip on her, she fell forward on her husband.
"Darling! Ooohm darling! I love you! I love you so much!"
He stroked her back tenderly and touched her forehead with his lips.
'Yeah, I love you, too, sugar. I've got to say, you're some kind of pussy
today! What's the story?"
She told him of the childhood she'd kept secret from him. She
mentioned the bad feeling between her grandmother and her parents and of
her own worship of the hard-bitten old lady. And she described in vivid
detail the crucial day in the wilderness area.
"Grandma died when she found out I was pregnant." she said. "There
was only one way I could make up for that."
"And that was turning into the sterile kind of bitch she figured a
broad ought to be?"
"Yes. I wouldn't say it like that, but yes.'
"You're not that icicle today! That's for damn sure!"
"No. Or ever again. I'm the other me."
"How come?" Art grinned and touched her lips with his fingertip.
"Let me guess. Dr. Davis, maybe?"
"Ugh! Lecherous psycho! I'm never going there again!" She shuddered.
"In a way it was him, though. he made me mad enough to start thinking.
And Vanessa was there to think, too."
"Van. Yeah, she's go t her feet on the ground."
"And her butt, with her legs spread, if a man looks interested!"
Helen gasped, startled by her reaction.
Art pushed her away from his chest and stared at her. "Huh! What
brought that on?"
"I saw. Art, I saw the way you took advantage when I was helpless
that night. And she'd been waiting a long time! It was in her eyes!"
"Ohhh!" Art whistled. "Things moved too fast for you!"
"You two moved fast enough! If I'd been able to think, I;d have
thought the two of you set me up so you could get together!"
"You mean that, don't you?"
Helen hesitated. For a moment she was aware of herself as if her
consciousness were a third person. She felt the intimacy of her flesh with
Art's and the emotional tension between them. And she had a weird
sensation of clinging to him in some other dimension with slipping
fingers.
"Art!" She heard the edge of panic in her own voice. "Honey! I'm
sorry! I don't care about what you do with her! Just save enough for me!"
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