9 comments/ 229830 views/ 70 favorites Mother is an Uptight Redhead Ch. 01 By: FatViagraCock I'm 30. My mother is an uptight German redhead, 50 years old. Statuesque. Tall. Jutting tits and long legs. She never smiled. When I look at porn and jack off, I only look at tall redheads. I don't want to see the faces. I want to see the legs and ass, so I can think of mom while I coat my cock in baby oil and jack off. I popped a Viagra. Then I ground two synthetic morphine tablets into a fine powder. I get them prescribed for my back pain. It was enough to knock out a horse. Mom came over and, as always on Sunday, and started to bitch me out for being a failure. "Care for some coffee?" I asked. I knew she'd want some. She holds her ass so tight that more caffeine is always welcome. She was dressed sharp, like always. Jet black boots nearly to her knees. A gray skirt down to her knees. When she walked and her skirt swayed, you could see little flashes of her white skin. She wore a brown blouse that buttoned up the front. It was a tiny bit tight. Looking at her from the side, anyone could see that she had an ample rack. The ground morphine was already in the bottom of the coffee cup, so when I threw in some sugar and poured the coffee, it dissolved. She sipped on it while she told me how to make my life better. Her mouth left smudges of her red lipstick on the rim of the white cup. After about half an hour, her nagging slowed down. Her speech started to slur. She started sentences, then let them hang in the air. I knew the narcotics were kicking in. I waited a few minutes, until she stopped talking altogether. She just sat there, staring straight ahead. She was in the ozone. I got out a bottle of gin. I took a big swig. From experience I knew that I could drink most of a liter without any issues with the Viagra. I wanted a good buzz while I fucked my mother's every hole. "Mom," I said, "Spread your legs far apart." She looked at me, puzzled. "Mom, spread put your feet far apart," I said firmly. She slowly did it, as if it was the most complicated thing in the world to do. "Close your eyes, Mommy," I said. She did it. Her head rolled back. I reached down and took the front of her gray skirt, and folded it back toward her. No response. She was flying. I looked down at her white panties. Pure white. I know she bleached them, then ironed them. I'd seen her iron her panties many times. "Lift your ass in the air," I commanded, sternly. "Ahhh?" she slurred. "Lift that ass!" She did it. Reaching down, I took both sides of her panties and pulled them away from her, down to her knees. "Sit!" She sat. There was no response to the panties around her knees. I knew I had her. When I pulled down her panties, my surprise was that she had a French wax. One thin strip of bright red hair down leading down to her clit, and bald and smooth on either side. I reached down and felt the white flesh beside her landing stip. There was no stubble. It was a fresh wax job. My mom, the slut, had been waxed that morning. That was when I realized that she quite the slut. "Mommy? Do you like to fuck?" I asked her. "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh? "Do you like sex??" "Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. I took that to be YES. I reached out and started to unbutton her blouse. Her skin was white as paper. I was surprised to find that she was not wearing a bra. Her tits were still perky after four children, and it showed me that she was so vain that she preferred not to wear one. She knew that her tits were still fine, and wanted the entire world to see it. Which meant that she wanted all the world to look at them, and to desire to fuck her. Once her blouse was open, her tits were fully exposed. They were generous and as white as a sheet of paper. Her nipples were bright pink and surrounded by brown saucers. I put my mouth on her left nipple and sucked. She squirmed her ass from side to side on the kitchen chair. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," she said. "Mmmmmmmmmmmmmore!" I could feel the nipple grow hard. I massaged the other one with my hand, and it instantly sprang to attention. I stepped back from her, pulled my t-shirt over my head, and loosened my belt. Her head fell to one side, resting on her shoulder. Her medium-length red hair fell over her face. I went into the hallway, dropped my pants to the floor, and stepped out of them. I opened the closet and reached for the bottle of baby oil and some clean towels that I'd set there in preparation. I went back to the kitchen and shot a stream of the oil between her tits. I pushed her shoulders back so her tits thrust forward, then set my fat viagra-charged cock into the crack between her breasts. I pushed them together with my hands and felt her soft flesh surrounding my penis. I slid it up and down very slowly. "Yes, daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa," she moaned. "Daddy? Did you say daddy?" "Yehhhhhhhhhhhhhhh." What the fuck? Is this a game she'd played before? "Do you like a hard cock in your pussy?" I asked her. "Mmmmmmmmmmm. Cock. Mmmmmmmmmmmmm." She was trying to talk, but it was hard. She had a big stupid grin on her face. Her eyes were slits. Almost closed. But she was looking at my face. "Mommy, I go into your room and find your panties out of the dirty clothes hamper. And I smell them when I jack off. I shoot my cum into them, Mommy. Didn't you see it when you did your laundry?" During my teen years, I would go into her bathroom and fish her white panties out of the clothes hamper, and I'd cum in them. I always wondered if she noticed, or if she blamed my dad. "Mmmmm. Yessssssssshhh. Smelled so gooooooooooood." She was making an effort to articulate. So Mommy knew? She smelled my cum on her panties when she loaded them in the wash? "Did you sniff my cum, Mommy?" "Yessssssh, whe' I caaaaa." Came? When she came? Mommy masturbated while sniffing her cum-soaked panties??? Just what kind of slut was she? "Do you like cock in your ass" I asked her. Whaaaa??????"she moaned. "Noooooooooooo. Thassssssss dirty." "Come here, mommy," I said, and tugged on her hand, pulling her forward. "Aufstehen!" That got her attention. Her eyes opened a little, and she smiled. She stood. I guided her to the couch in the living room, supporting her. I pushed her ass down in the middle of the couch, and grabbed the heels of her black boots and pulled them up on the sofa. Her head fell on the couch at the opposite end. "Mommy, have a taste," I said. I bent my knees and put my hard cock to her mouth. She slid her lips over the head of my cock like a pro and ran her tongue up and down the shaft. She'd done this before. "Mommy, how many men have you sucked off?" I pulled out so that she could talk. "Tell me and you can suck some more." "I duhhnnoooo." She grinned, then waved an arm toward me. I think she was trying to grab my cock. "More than 10?" "Yesssshhhhhhhhhhhh." I leaned forward into her. She licked up and down my shaft. Viagra makes me juicy. Very juicy. I was dripping loads of pre-cum and she was drinking it down. I pulled back again. A stream of pre-cum dangled from her lip to the tip of my cock. "More than twenty?" I asked. "Have you sucked more than twenty?" "Yeessssssssssshhhh," she moaned. I put it back to her mouth. Up to now, I'd been holding my cock steady, letting her do the work. But the idea that she was cock-sucking pro had got me surprisingly aroused. Of course other men had desired that fine ass. I just hadn't believed she would be unfaithful and fuck men besides dad. Was that why he left her, five years ago? They always said it was about money, but perhaps he'd been aware of infidelity. Placing the head of my cock on her lips, I watched her part them in preparation. Then I thrust it hard. It went into her throat and she took it. I gave it a slow pull out, then thrust again. I pulled back out again. "Where did you suck all that cock?" "Collllllig," she moaned. "Gimmmmmme cock." I pushed my cock back into her mouth and she sucked it like a Hoover. "You sucked the boys in college?" I asked. "Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm," she moaned. What else, I wondered? "Sorry, Mommy, but it's time for something besides cum sucking." I reached down and grabbed a handful of red hair. "Ahhhhhhhwwww!" She didn't like that. "Roll away from me," I commanded sternly. "Ahhhh?" "Face away!" I said, and slapped her ass. She shifted her weight on the couch and turned her face to the wall, and shifted her ass toward me. I had placed a jar of Vaseline under the couch before she came over. I reached under and pulled it out. I dipped my hand into the sticky goo, then reached over to her and spread my hand up and down the beautiful crack of her firm ass. She moaned as I rubbed it around her asshole, then again as I moved my hand further in and rubbed the lube onto her pussy lips. Without my prompting her, she raised her left leg into the air, providing me with full access. My hand rubbed back and forth between her pink pussy lips and I could feel that she was dripping wet with excitement. This was a woman who likes to fuck. Around the jar of Vaseline I'd placed a big blue rubber band, the kind the grocery uses to bind produce. Now I doubled it around my finger and then slid it over my cock, down to the base. I was hard, but this would make me harder. "Mommy," I said. "Here's cock in your ass." I guided the head of pulsing cock toward her asshole, positioned it until I felt her asshole all around it, then pushed in. ""UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" "Mommy, how do you like an ass full of cock?" "Mmmmmmm, daaaaaaaaaa, issssssssssss good." Da? Did she mean daddy? "Bitch!" I slapped her ass hard. "Who am I? "Daaaaaaaaaaaaaadddyyyy." "Do you fuck your daddy, bitch? "Yeeessssssssssssshhhh." "NO!" I shouted. "I am NOT your daddy! I am your baby boy and I have my cock in your ass!" "Babeeeeeee?" "Yes, mommy, your baby." "Yesssssssshhh, babbeeeeee. Fuck mommmeeeee." "Mommy? You want me to fuck you? "Yesssssssssssshhh. 'bout time." "Mommy, do you want this cock?" "Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm." I shoved it in, rough, to the full length. "Yessssssshhhh!" she cried. "Mommy, are you a fuck whore?" I asked. Yessssssssssshhh!!!" Mommy was grinding her ass back against my engorged cock. The veins stood out in high relief. I yelled, "Mommy, fuck this big cock!" and pushed it hard to the full length, my balls banging against her hairless, smooth cunt. I rammed it repeatedly. A big smile appeared on her lips. She was enjoying every inch. I was throbbing. I rammed it again, to the full length. Nothing had ever been so tight. Mommy was rhythmically pushing her ass back at me. I pulled my member back, out except for the head. It was glistening. I shoved it back, to the hilt. Mommy groaned with pleasure and pushed her ass toward me. Her bright red lips, smeared with lipstick, were parted open and she grasped for air. Her eyes were closed tight. Her red hair flopped toward the floor. "Mommy, do you want to eat cum?" "MMMMMMMmmmmmmmmmmmmm," she moaned. I pulled out of her ass. I grabbed a big handful of her red hair, twisted her head toward me, and pushed my cock head between her lips. Expertly, like a seasoned whore, she sucked it into her mouth. I thrust slowly, so the full length of it went past her lips and over her tongue. It was the wettest, smoothest sensation. Suddenly, I could feel the massive explosion. I pushed deep. She didn't even gag. As I unleashed waves of hot cum, she alternated between swallowing and licking. Not one drop escaped her lips. She sucked as if nothing had ever tasted so good. I'd never felt my cock jerk as many times as it did then. When I was done shooting my load, I pulled out. Mommy lay on her back, a smile on lips. She sighed, then passed out. I knew the drugs would be in her for a while, and she's sleep. I lay down on the rug beside the couch,thinking I'd rest my weak knees for a few moments before I started again. I'd fucked two holes, but hadn't yet made it to her pussy. But I guess fell asleep, naked on the floor. It was the middle of the night when I awoke, with the feeling that someone was there. I opened my eyes. In the dim light, I could see that my mother was standing in the hall, straightening her skirt. She came over to me. She leaned forward and planted her lips on my cheek. "Goodnight, son," said. "I'll be back again after mass on Sunday. Make sure you've taken two of your Viagra. I don't want a wimpy cock up my ass again next time." Mother is an Uptight Redhead Ch. 02 People think that because I carry myself with dignity, I don't know what's going on. But I pay attention. When I'm at the canasta club, I can tell when Mr. X has started fucking Mrs. Y and is no longer spending any time with Mrs. Z. It's the little details, like how the fuck-partners try not to make eye contact with each other. I noticed that my second boy, Junior, never had much luck with women. Junior is 30 now. I'm 50. At mass I used to pray that he'd find some sweet girl like Paula, who lived next door, but it never happened. It was one stupid slut after another. Mostly with red hair, like mine. Mostly tall, like me. But none of them smart, like me. Now I just pray he doesn't father some brat with one of his sluts and spend the next two decades paying child support he can't afford. Last Sunday, I went over to Junior's place like I usually do. Being a widow, I have a lot of free time when I'm not at my job at the bank. The canasta keeps me busy two nights a week, but last month Mr. B retired from his job as a high school English teacher and he and his idiot wife, Charlene, moved to some dinky town in Nevada where the houses are cheap and the taxes are low. Without Mr. B's fat, Viagra enhanced rod to prod my cunt every few days, I was starting to feel pretty lonely. Besides, I had nothing to confess now when I went to give confession to Fr. Vincent. I felt bad, having no mortal sins to confess to him and so nothing to let him fantasize about when we yanked his meat. I felt I owed it to Fr. Vincent to offer some exploits of my struggles with the flesh so that he'd have something worth thinking about when he looked down on me and preached God's love and forgiveness. Christ knows, he'd been forgiving me for 10 years! Anyway, I knew that Junior was feeling low. I thought I'd give him something to think about when it came to his relationships with women. I put on a skirt that fell midway between my ass and knees. Neat, not overtly sexy, but a lot of leg. And my blouse was just one size too small, so my breasts were nicely outlined by the fabric. I put on my reddest lipstick. It goes so nicely with my hair. I figured that once I went home to make dinner, Junior would have his cock out in a flash, jerking to the thought of his mother, just like he used to. That would cheer him up. A few minutes after I had my first cup of coffee, I started to feel very relaxed. It was a feeling I remembered from the doping I got when I had my babies. Junior had put something in my coffee. It made me feel incredibly mellow and happy. My cares melted away. Everything was wonderful. I tried not to let on that I was aware of what was happening. I could not imagine what Junior was doing! But the drug, whatever it was, made it seem as if time was standing still. Suddenly, he spoke to me in a voice I'd never heard. It was a commanding voice. It was a MAN'S voice. He told me to spread my legs far apart. It took me some time to register. Why would he tell me that? He commanded me again, like I was a small, stupid child. I did what I was told. I hadn't felt this secure in years, not since my own daddy had used that very same voice to tell me what to do. I used to go home to daddy when I'd had a fight with Junior's father. Hearing Junior's firm male voice gave me a thrill. He commanded me to close my eyes. Junior? Daddy? Who was commanding me? I didn't care. I closed my eyes. I think I fell asleep. The next thing I remember was the delicious feel of daddy's mouth on my nipple. It had been years since daddy had done this for me. Then, like a hundred times before, he put his huge hard cock between my breasts and pushed them together with his hands. He thrust it between them in powerful thrusts that pushed me back on the chair. I loved the power that was concentrated in those few inches of man. Then he asked me about my panties. Why was daddy asking me about my panties? I looked at this face. Oh my blessed Jesus! It wasn't daddy, but Junior. I told cum smells good. Or at least that's what I tried to say to him. I don't know how it came out. My pussy juices started to flow once I realized that I was about to fuck another generation, this one my own son. I hoped his cock would be as big as my daddy's was. Things got fuzzy again as I thought about daddy's huge cock initiating me into sex in each of my holes, but they got very clear when I felt the yielding flesh of cock-head part my ruby lips. I adore a cock in my mouth. Nothing else is ever so intimate. My tongue can sense every ripple of pleasure in the man, and the dribbles of precum are like warm syrup to me. Junior wanted his mommy to suck him. Mommy was delighted! Then Fr. Vincent came to mind. How many Hail Mary's would I get when I told him this while I sat in the dark confessional and massaged my clit? Junior was still a relatively young man. Sucking wasn't going to make that cock any harder. Nothing was. It was as hard as the leg of the kitchen table. Normally, one of the pleasures of sucking a man is feeling it swell in my mouth. Even an erect penis will swell after a few swipes of the tongue and a little moaning for effect. It's stupid to moan. It's not as if he's rubbing my clit. But all men are little boys. They need to thing that what feels good to them is bring you closer to orgasm. So cock sucking must be accompanied by moaning. But Junior's cock didn't swell when I sucked and licked it. I guessed it was a drug-enhanced erection, then. Once they start to swell, they tend to stay at the same level of rigidity. But that was good. Hopefully, Junior shot his load earlier that morning, and this erection would last long enough to do something interesting to me. He pushed me down, and I was aware that I was on his couch. I wondered how many slutty whores had been on that couch before me. He rolled me so that I faced the back of the couch. So Junior was a back door man. I liked that thought. There were all those hours when he sat in the kitchen, doing his homework, and I faced the sink or the counter or the stove, and his view of me was my ass. My ass and legs are my best feature. I was glad to know that Junior at least appreciated a woman's best features. He was awfully fast applying the lube to my asshole. I'd have to mention it some time. The ass is a major erogenous zone. A little foreplay there can go a long away. But there would be time later to correct Junior's mistakes and adjust his technique. When his cock started to press into my asshole, I got confused again. It was always such a special treat when daddy would run his tongue up and down the crack of my ass until it was wet with saliva, and then he'd place one hand firmly on each butt cheek, place his rod between them, and rub it up and down. I'd feel it growing harder as it brushed up and down on my asshole, until finally, suddenly, he'd shove it in. It was like having daddy there again. I felt appreciated as a woman again. I couldn't help myself with Junior. I called him "daddy" when I answered him. I barely understood what the said to me, but I tried to answer. Men are babies. If you don't answer them, it ruins it for them. I wish they'd all just shut up and act like men. Talking is for men who don't get to fuck, like priests and men you play cards with who want to get in your panties but are too chicken-shit to two-time their ugly, neglectful wives. Calling Junior "daddy" seemed to energize him. He slid his cock into my ass with one swift motion, with such force that he didn't need a second thrust to move it beyond the inner sphincter and into the rectum itself. I delighted in the painful ecstasy. I offered my pain to the blessed Virgin and said a Hail Mary silently to myself. I said it rhythmically, in time to the waves of release and then pain as he moved in and out. "Hail Mary..." Swelling pain to "Full of Grace..." Release as he pulled out to "the Lord is with thee..." Swelling pain to "Blessed art thou..." I smiled to think how I was sharing both my pleasure and pain with the blessed Virgin. Once I got the rhythm going, I pushed my ass back toward him each time the next phrase told me that the pain would return. I got two Hail Mary's when Junior decided he wanted something else. Stupid boys! They never seem to know how to establish a rhythm and stay with it. A moment later, my scalp hurt as he used my hair to guide me back around, and then my mouth was again full of hot meat. I pushed my tongue firmly against the intruding flesh, giving it resistance. Two strokes and I felt the pulsing, and then there was the lovely creamy cum, filling my mouth. Stupid boy. Judging by the amount, he hadn't jerked off that morning. No wonder he couldn't sustain it and had to shoot his load so soon, like that schoolboy home from school with Mommy's panties. When he withdrew, I just relaxed and let sleep wash over me. Maybe he'd recover and his drug-enhanced cock could do a proper job before we got to the embarrassment of his sober confrontation with his sinful lust. No such luck. I woke a few hours later. Junior lay on the floor beside the couch, asleep. He looked so angelic. The dim light made him look so young, almost too young to fuck anyone. At the same time, I could see my own father there in his face, telling me that this young man was full of lust and would be so weak that I could manipulate him from this day on. There would be no need to nag him about anything anymore. The idea that mommy's tongue wouldn't be wrapped around his meat every Sunday would keep him in line. I went to the bathroom and tied up. I peeked in the medicine cabinet. Aspirin, vitamins, toothpaste. There it was. Morphine. Viagra. That was my blissful state and his rigidity. As I came out of the bathroom, straightening my skirt, I could see in the dim light that he was lifting his head and looking at me. I needed to let him know that, while I would be submissive to my daddy, I was really in charge. "Goodnight, son," I said. "I'll be back again after mass on Sunday. Make sure you've taken two of your Viagra. I don't want a wimpy cock up my ass again next time." Mother is an Uptight Redhead Ch. 03 Author's note: These events take place one week before those of chapters one and two. * I was annoyed when the doorbell rang on Saturday after lunch. I had put away my knitting basket and was surfing the net looking at pictures of gay men shoving their enormous engorged cocks into one another. Frankly, I didn't want to be disturbed. But when I went to the door, I could see the UPS man climbing back into his brown truck at the end of the driveway. He'd rung the bell to let me know that there was a package on the front stoop. Since I was wearing nothing but my flannel nightgown, I looked through the window to be sure the coast was clear. The only person in sight was old man McCarthy. God only knows if he could even see clearly across the street. So I opened the front door a crack, put my hand out, and grabbed the small package. The return address was "Smith Optical," which was the lame name used by sex toy company I favor. Goodness! That was so speedy! My new dildo was here already. I'm not one to rush into anything. I read a lot of online customer reviews before I chose this model. Sex and The City notwithstanding, those old jack rabbit vibrators were kind of a joke. But the next generation appeared to be much better, and I'd invested $55.00 in a cute pink model with a bulbous dildo and a bulbous clit stimulator. There were some similar ones for less money, but an order over $50 got free shipping, so what the heck. Now that it was here, I knew just how I'd try it out. I could hardly contain myself until 4:00, but the time went fairly quickly as I did my hair and makeup and chose a pair of shoes that didn't clash too much with my new toy. I had two vodka tonics while I got ready. Enough to relax me but not enough to impair my driving. Then I drove over to St. Anthony's parish. As I suspected, the parking lot was empty. Confessions had begun at 2:00, and although they continued until 5:00, there were few confessions from 2:30 to 4:30, when the rush would start with sinners getting absolved before 5:00 mass. I just might stick around until 5:00 myself, and then I wouldn't have to go out on Sunday morning until it was time to go to Junior's for lunch. Sure enough, there was no one in the church. I like St. Anthony's because you can choose either face-to-face confession or old-school, private-box confession. Naturally, I was there for the latter. And the other wonderful thing about St. A's was the roomy confessional box seats. They were benches, not chairs. "Bless me father, for I have sinned," I began. The rest was by the book, allowing me to proceed without thinking while I opened my purse and removed my new toy. I gave the usual standard list of envying my neighbor and so forth, then said "Father, I am afraid that my biggest problem is lust and weakness of will." "Tell me more, child," he answered. By the age of the voice, it was Father Ambrose. He was about 50, could stand to lose 20 pounds, and his hair was getting gray. But not a bad looking fellow, and I'd seen his eyes wander up and down the ass of a female parishioner from time to time when he thought no one would see. He'd do just swell. I softly set my right heel up on the wooden bench of the confessional, swung my left leg over to the left, and set my left heel into the corner of the confessional box. Planning ahead, I was wearing sensible shoes with good soles. Not the best shoes to show off my legs and ass, but good ones for hold me steady in that box. With my legs spread wide, it was a simple matter to reach down with my left hand and spread open the slit in my crotchless panties, exposing my naughty region to the fresh air. With my right hand, I twisted the base ring on the toy and it began to hum. "Yes father, lust and weakness of will. Last night, I was at the grocery, and there was a young man, the oldest boy of the O'Rordan family, bagging my groceries. So I guess he must have been about 23. That poor family, with a grown boy like that still working at the Piggly Wiggly." I pushed the head of the larger bulb into my baby-making hole, which I'd lubed before leaving the house. The smaller bulb made contact with the head of my clit. I let out a small gasp. "He was just so cute," I continued, "I couldn't resist tempting him. When he asked me if I wanted a plastic bag for my bananas and cucumbers, I told him, 'You can bag me anytime with plastic.' I could see from the way his eyes widened that I'd implanted impure thoughts in that sweet young thing." There was a little bit of trembling in my voice as I confessed. I was moving the dildo in and out very slightly, easing and then pushing hard against my clit while the fat hard rod filled my empty space. I'd had plenty of men, but few are as dependable as a good sex toy. Fr. A's voice was reassuring. "Young men of that age are filled with lust. I'm sure that nothing you said incited any impurities that you need be concerned with." True enough. Sage advice. Had he caught on yet? Probably not. "But Father," I continued, "It got worse. I told that young man that if he took my bag out to my car, I'd give him a nice tip. So he took them out to the station wagon, but when we got there and he put them in the back, I looked in my purse and then I told a lie. I told him I was out of cash!" "And why did you lie?" asked Father Ambrose. "Because, Father, I was tempted." I think my voice was getting very breathy. That toy was doing its job on my pleasure button, and I could feel the orgasm building. "Because of what I told him next. I told him that if he would tell me when he had a break, his tip would be in my mouth." "And what did you mean by that?" asked the priest. "I think you know, Father. What do aroused young men like to put in ladies' mouths?" Confessional boxes are not completely dark, and I could see that Father Ambrose's elbow was moving slowing up and down. I could guess that the other end of that arm was resting between his legs, and that slight movement meant that his hand was moving up and down the shaft of this penis. He could not see the similar motion of my own arm because he stared straight ahead, never looking in my direction. "But then I lied again, Father." I was beginning to speak through clenched teeth. I was getting close, and trying not to gasp or moan."I did not come back on his break, as I said I would. I was merely a temptress without action. Those are all my sins, Father." I cut it off because I had arrived. There was still a regular movement of his arm on the far side of his body. "All right, child," he said. "It seems you were weak in the moment but controlled yourself. That is not weakness of will, but its opposite. Say two rosaries in penance." Then he began the absolution prayer as I started to orgasm. After years of learning to be quiet while others were in the house while my husband licked my clit every night at bedtime, bringing me to orgasm, there was nothing for Father Ambrose to hear but some very heavy breathing. The waves of pleasure ran down into my toes and my knees went weak; I couldn't hold myself still and so I pulled the toy from my wet canal, ending my orgasm rather abruptly. However, I had arrived at the promised land, if only briefly. "Are you still there, my child?" asked Father Ambrose. He'd stopped talking a minute before, but I hadn't responded. I wrapped my goopy sex toy in the hankie that I'd brought for that purpose, and put it back into my purse. "Yes, Father, but you are being too kind to me. I may have resisted that impulse yesterday, but surely it is a sin to have engaged in deliberate planning to arouse a priest." I sat up straight and smoothed my skirt. Now the pause was from the other side of the grilled panel. "Well, no," said Father Ambrose. "When you know that you won't be the cause, but rather that your action is innocent and merely has the effect of arousal, then there is no sin." "But Father," I said, standing up. "I came her hoping you'd be hard as a rock when I went out into the church to say my rosaries, and that you'd abuse yourself later, thinking of my voice." I opened the door and went out. I walked forward about three pews, pushed down the kneeler, and got on my knees. I'd chosen a rather daring skirt, one that was above my knees. So my legs were quite visible to anyone who walked by that pew. As I suspected, people started to show up a few minutes later, and Father Ambrose had a few confessions between then and 5:00. All of them old women. I laughed to myself, thinking of Father Ambrose and his woody while they told him their trivial wrongdoings. At 5:00, the priest's door opened and Father Ambrose stepped out of the confessional. He turned left and headed toward the front of the church, as I'd expected. I was holding my rosary conspicuously, and he slowed down when he caught sight of me. He looked at me and his eyes widened. I could see that he was calculating, deciding whether I was the one who'd told him about the bag boy while breathing heavily. He glanced at my legs and I felt his eyes move up them and over my ass. I caught his eye. "Was that two rosaries, or three?" I asked. He did not answer, but blushed red as he walked away. Unfortunately, when I stayed for 5:00 mass, it was Father Clement who said mass, so I got no further chance to arouse Father Ambrose that day. Yet I knew that my image would be in his head when he closed his eyes that night, and he'd soon enough have a hard cock in his hand that he'd have to confess before he'd be absolving anyone else next Saturday. Mother is an Uptight Redhead Ch. 04 Driving my engorged cock deep into my mother's ass for the first time, hearing her slutty moans, I had a sudden flashback to ten years ago. I was twenty, and attending the U, and my friend Rick and I went to a party where Rick said there'd be some good drugs. There weren't. But the apartment was pretty crowded. Maybe fifty people in two rooms, with the music up loud. We walked around, looking for someone we knew, or someone ready to part with some drugs. In the second bedroom, there was a girl in a chair next to the bed. She had her head back, oblivious to the party and in her in own private world. I would have like some of whatever she was on. There was something familiar about her. Was she the girl with dirty blond hair from my pysch class? Or someone from the cafeteria? She was wearing a Hello Kitty t-shirt that was a little too tight, stretched across her ample tits, and she was wearing blue sneakers and red tights below a short skirt. Her legs were firm and long. Her tits were medium size, at best. The song on the sound system changed, and suddenly she opened her eyes and looked around. Then I recognized her. It was Paula. We grew up next door to each other. All my life until college, she was in my class at school. What a stuck up bitch! Always the smartest girl in every class, and she walked around like she had a ten-inch dildo up her ass. Never, ever saw her at a high school party. My mom was totally into what a good, wholesome, Catholic girl she was, and how I should ask her out. "Why don't you ask out that nice girl, Paula, from next door?" As if Paula was ever going to give me the time of day! No way. When we graduated from high school, I guess I knew she was head to the U, when I was headed to the local community college. But this semester I'd just transferred to the U, too, and I occasionally ran into someone from high school. This was the first time I'd run into Paula. In fact, I'd forgotten she was here, until now, somewhere in the sea of 25,000 students. She looked at me. I could see a puzzled look in her eyes. "Jimmy?" she asked. Her voice was lazy, as if she had forever to say anything. "Yeah, hey Paula, long time no see," I answered. I sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned toward her. "Jimmy, how's your mom?" Jeez! First thing out of her mouth is to remind me of my mom. "I don't eshpect she'd picture me here. I don't eshpect you w'd, ether." Paula was slurring a few words and talking very very slow. "Mom's fine. How's yours?" "Mine? I guess she's fucking everything she sees, like she always has." Paula smiled a big smile at me. This was news to me. While Mrs. Beechen was definitely a mother-I'd-like-to-rape, I didn't know she played around. "Really? She never offered to do me," I said. "Oh? Before she used to go out to sunbathe, she always said, 'Time to give Jimmy an eyeful.'" Come to think of it, Mrs. Beechen did like to sunbathe in a lawn chair on the side lawn, where I could see her from my bedroom window. Never, ever, would I have expected this conversation with stuck-up Paula. "So, Paula," I asked, "How have you been? Haven't seen you in two years expect in church when you come home to visit." "Sure, Jimmy, I have to haul my ass into church to repent for the fun I have since leaving that hick town. Mom makes me go, and we don't want to hurt our mommy's feelings. So how come you never asked me out?" That one took me by surprise. "I guess we didn't run in the same circles." "Oh," she laughed, "you mean I wasn't putting out back then?" "I suppose. Are you putting out now?" "Let's go someplace else, and see. Just call me Mrs. Beechen." This was a girl with a twisted mommy fixation. I helped Paula to her feet, gave her my arm, and steered her over to Rick. "Dude," I whispered, "got any purple pills? I think I got lucky." I wasn't that loud, but I had to speak up because of the party music. Paula must have heard, because she said, "Yeah, duuuuuude, he needs to be stiff for the next few hours." Miss prude was turning out to be anything but. "Yeah, in the glove compartment," Rick advised. Paula was unsteady. I steered her out the door and down the block. I had Rick's extra set of keys. Sure enough, the glove compartment had a few baggies of pills. I found the purple Viagra, took one out, formed a mouthful of saliva, and swallowed one. "I need a fuck," Paula declared. "I hear you like to fuck, Jimmy." She laughed. "How often do you fuck, angel?" I asked. I remembered her years ago in her white first communion dress. I thought she was the purest girl in the world. "Angels aren't physical. They don't fuck," she said. Miss Priss with the dildo up her ass wasn't gone, after all. "How often do you get corporal, angel?" I asked. "Only when the guy is cute," she said. We were about three blocks from the dorm where Rick and I shared a room. I steered her in that direction. As we were cutting across a campus lawn, we passed a bench that was pretty dark. There were no lights directly on it. Suddenly, Paula pulled all her weight in the direction of the bench and came to a hard landing on it. I guess she wanted to sit. I sat down next to her. "Jimmy," she said, "There are rules." "With you, Paula, I assume there are." "No cunt." I was surprised that she used the word. "No vagina?" I asked. "No cunt. Cunt is for my honeymoon. Anything else." "Got it," I said, "no cunt." "Do ya wanna inspect the goods?" she asked. "Everybody was afraid to touch me, 'cause I'm smart. If I had mom's tits and ass, that wouldn't be a problem." Suddenly, she pulled her t-shirt up to her neck. A white, lacey bra was exposed to the night sky. "Will these do, Jimmy? They're not as big as Mandy's. I know you had a thing for her." "Don't worry, Paula," I said. "You've got the goods. I can't resist a girl who gets an A in trig." She put the shirt back down and got to her feet. "Okay. Let's see what you got." We continued down the walk, to the south of the dorm. I fished out my key and let us in the door. "I gotta pee," she said. "Okay, just up the stairs," I told her, and took her to the girls' floor and showed her to the bathroom. I waited in the hall. Two or three minutes later, she came out. I noticed that her tights were off, and trailing out of her purse. Her legs were milky white. "One more flight up," I said, and took her arm and directed her to the stairs. When we got to my room, I was glad that there was none of the usual crap on my bed and that the sheets were relatively clean. "Jimmy," she said. "How long since we left the party?" "I don't know. 20 minutes?" "So your pill will kick in soon? Don't shoot you wad until it kicks in," she said. Ever the smart one, she was calculating the time until the Viagra kicked in. What a wicked bitch. She kicked off her shoes. Then she reached behind, under her shirt, and unsnapped her bra. "Okay," she said. "Come here." I walked over to her and leaned forward, moving my mouth to hers. "No," she said. "No kissing." She reached out a hand, grabbed my belt buckle, and pulled me forward. "Unzip," she said. I did as she said. She reached her hand into my pants, grabbed the top of my underwear, and pulled them down. She slid the hand back up, inside the pants, and fondled my cock. It was getting quite hard. She pulled it through the opening in the front of my pants. "Can't we take these off?" I asked? "No, this is fine." She leaned forward, and suddenly my cock was enveloped by the soft wet warmth of her lips. Up to this point, it was a mouth that I thought was only capable of uttering the right answer to classroom questions. Turns out that those lips knew more than the multiplication tables. She sucked hard on the tip of my cock and released it with a popping sound. "So I got Jimmy's cock before Mommy," she said. "I win." "Is it a contest?" I asked Paula just before her mouth descended on it again. She stroked it deep along her tongue three times, then pulled off. She wiped the pre-cum in her mouth on to the sleeve of her t-shirt. "You'll have to see the next time you're home," she said, then sucked the head of my cock again. I grabbed each side of her head with a hand, immobilizing her head, and then I pumped my pelvis forward and back, pumping my penis into her wet, welcoming mouth. On the third push, I drove it as far it would go. She didn't choke. She took it all. Encouraged, I thrust more rapidly, fucking the full length into her hot tight mouth. After ten or so strokes, Paula pulled her head back. Pre-cum was dripping from her lips, falling onto the face of Hello Kitty. "Don't shoot it too soon, Jimmy," she warned. "So do you want a tit fuck? A blowjob? Or in my ass?" "If you're offering, turn around." Without hesitation, Paula rolled around on to her knees on the bed. She placed her legs a short distance apart, reached a hand back, and flipped up her skirt. Her ass was naked. She leaned on to the bed, putting her forehead to the mattress, bracing herself. With pre-cum and saliva mixing on my cock head, I rubbed it on her asshole. "C'mon, Jimmy, fuck that ass," she encouraged me. I positioned the head of my cock right at the opening. Suddenly, she reached an arm back, ran it up my leg to get her direction, grabbed the shaft, and directed it right to asshole. She shifted her weight back. "C'mon Jimmy." I pushed the head of my cock against the tiny, tiny opening. The moist juices allowed the head to make a small penetration. "Push, Jimmy, push!" I pushed. Her moan was not entirely one of pleasure. "I don't want to hurt you," I said. "Fuck, Jimmy, if you want to fuck an ass, pain is half the game. Push! Give me what I need!" So I pushed. There was too much resistance. It was too dry. I spat above my cock, on her ass crack, and used one hand to guide the juice down onto the shaft of my cock. I pulled it back and massaged it with the saliva, then pushed in again. I went in a few inches, and felt her resistance. "Yes, Jimmy! Push hard now!" Paula's voice was animal, almost unrecognizable. Looking down on her, I could picture her mother's ass in a bikini. "Take it, Mrs. Beechen," I said, and I pushed. She screamed as she parted open and took my cock. "Give it to me, boy!" I gave it to her, hard and fast. The Viagra cut my sensitivity. It took me a full ten minutes of steady pounding before I came. As I got near, I called out, "Feel that, Mrs. Beechen? Feel that cock?" "Yes, Jimmy, Yes! Give me it every time you come home from school!" I shot my wad in ten enourmous spasms. Paula could feel them, because she counted them out loud! Crazy bitch always loved math. When I was done, my cock remained hard. I started to pull it out, but Paula said, "Hold it in there, Jimmy." She put her weight on her left shoulder and then reached back with her right hand, between her legs, and started to vibrate several fingers on her clit. "Hold it there, Jimmy!" Within a minute, she started to shake and her breathing got rapid. She gave a series of short gasps, then pulled her hand off her clit and fell forward off the bed. We waited, silently, for her to recover her composure. After a couple of minutes, she said, "Thanks, Jimmy. If you see me a party again, come over and say hello." She pulled herself forward, off my cock. "Next time you're home, go say hello to my mom. I think she likes a good, rough ass fucking, too." Mother is an Uptight Redhead Ch. 05 When I woke up, a little hung-over, I was unsure how much I remembered correctly. Had mother REALLY given me instruction on how to fuck her next time?!? Me 30, her 50, fucking? And did she really confuse me with her dad? That horny old goat? Now that I thought about from an adult perspective, his second wife was pretty hot. And a tall redhead, like mom! He must have married Bernice when he was about 40, which meant that he had many years of fuck-pleasure from her. Now that I thought back, Bernice had a pretty sweet rack and ass, and it made me wonder what she was like when they'd been drinking. And they liked drinking, as I remember it. Their speech was pretty slurred at the end of a family dinner, when he'd say, "Lamb chop, time to go home and continue the party." NOW I got what everyone was laughing about. Hell, I'd fuck every hole of hers if I had the chance. Thinking about Gramps fucking Bernice made me horny. I sat down at my computer and pulled up a porn site with streaming video, and typed in "Redhead MILF." I pushed my underwear down to my ankles. But then I knew I'd need lube. I kicked off my underwear and went to the kitchen, went to the counter and slathered some butter from butter dish onto my left hand. That left my right hand free to use the computer. I went back to the living room, slathering my cock with the butter that was melting in my hand. I sat in my chair and surveyed my choices. One of the clips was a redhead in lingerie who looked a little like mom. Just the ticket. I moved the video clip forward to the five minute mark. Fuck all that pretend acting set-up. Let's see if that MILF has anything. She did. She reminded me a hell of a lot of mom. Mom's 50, and this slut was maybe 40, but that was just fine. That would be mom about ten years ago, when I was 20 and in college. I used to come home about once a month (mostly to drag home my laundry and have mom do it). I spent half my time up in my room, looking at "cougar" porn and jerking off. Sometimes I'd catch a look at Mrs. Beechen, next door. She was about my mom's age, 40. Sometimes she'd sun herself on one of those cheap folding lawn chairs that lay flat. She'd wear a tight bikini that didn't cover much. I'd get out the jar of Vaseline from the top back of my closet shelf, sit on my bed where I was out of direct line of sight of my window, lean forward so I could see Mrs. Beechen's round full ass staining at the fabric of the bikini, and I'd jerk myself for however long she'd sunbathe. When she sat up, I knew she'd go back into her house. But that gave me a view of her bulging tit, and I'd jerk faster and shoot my load while I could still see her. Mrs. Beechen. Mommy. Was it the experience that drove me wild? The sense that they were proper moms who knew how to please and control a man? The video on my computer was pretty hot. I scrolled forward to see if there was any anal action. Luckily, there was. Only then did I pay attention to the soundtrack. The woman was saying, "Put it in my ass, son, put it in my ass!" That's the ticket. My cock stiffened. It was like a replay of last night. A HUGE cock slid into her waiting ass. I gripped my cock tight and slid my hand up and down furiously. "Yes, son, yes! OOOOOOh, you fill mommy's hole so big," said the video mommy. She thrust her perfect, round, wide ass back against him. I exploded cum all over my chest in five huge spurts. Yes, I was definitely going to have to fuck mommy's ass again. I wondered if I'd hear from her during the week. I didn't. On Thursday, I gave her a call around noon. I knew she'd be there. She's a creature of her routines. She never does anything before noon, except on Sunday. "Hey, mom," I said, did you want to do brunch after church on Sunday?" I pretended I didn't have anything else in mind, but she HAD asked for more action on Sunday. "Oh, Sweetheart, that would be so nice. Why don't I just swing by on my way to mass, and then after church we'll have brunch?" Not what I had in mind, but fine. Let's see what the slut had in mind. On Saturday, I went to the barber and got all fresh and nice. Mom always whined that I didn't keep up my appearance. Sunday morning, I knew she'd be there about 10, a half hour before mass, so I waited by the front window. When I saw her car pull up, I popped a Viagra. I didn't wait for her to get out of the car; I opened the door and went straight out and walked around to the passenger side. "Oh, junior, don't you look so nice?" she greeted me. "You look lovely, mother, " I responded, sliding into the car. I wasn't kidding. I hadn't seen her so dressed up in ages. She'd obviously been to the hairdresser's this week. Her red hair was as vivid as if she was twenty, and piled on her head in a massive pile of curls and wisps. I wanted to plunge my hands into it, grab a hold, and yank her face down into my crotch. Her satiny green dress was just a little tight in the bust, shoving ample cleavage up into the V-shaped neck. I wanted to lube my cock and plunge it into that slit of welcoming white flesh. She was wearing pearls. She was wearing black nylons. She was wearing white high heels with VERY high heels. Fuck me pumps to church? I couldn't wait to see her ass, high in the air and ripe for all to see, strolling up the aisle. When we got to St. Anthony's, the parking lot was half full. We were a few minutes early. Mommy liked it that way. That meant we didn't have to sit in the back. Mommy led the way, and she very slowly walked up the main aisle, fuck-me-pumps clattering on the hard tile floor. I swear, every man in that church got a fat load of wood, because very one of them was staring at her ass as it passed by going up the aisle. When we go to the second row, she paused. "Junior, go in ," she said. I did. That put her directly on the aisle, as it always did. Suddenly, I understood. For all those years, she'd gone to the second row, on the middle aisle. That meant that every time she knelt down, half the men in the place had a clear view of her ass, thrust high in the air. Mom wasn't there to pray! She was there to make sure that none of the men did. Father Ambrose was the priest. His sermon was some boring thing about giving back to the community. Funny thing, it seemed to me that the only person he was ever looking at was mom. And not mom. Her tits. She smiled the whole time in a tight little smile. Was Father Ambrose thinking about greasy up his cock and titty-fucking mom? No way! When it got to communion, mom got up. I was still sitting. "Aren't you going," she whispered? "No," I said quietly. I didn't get to confession yesterday. "Well, that was foolish of you," she said, a smile on her face, if you die today you'll go to hell, won't you?" She stepped out of the pew and went up, knelt down, and opened her mouth to Father Ambrose. I noticed that he pause a long time and looked at that mouth when he to her for communion. When it was all done and we stood to go, I said, "Mom, where do you want to have brunch?" "Oh, dear, I'm not all that hungry, and some things are best not done on a full stomach." She didn't elaborate on what she needed to do, but I hoped it involved my cock and her ass. "Same for me," I said. "Just a coffee, then?" "Please, that would be grand," she said. We went over to Starbucks. As with church, every guy in the place got hard looking at her ass, pushing high by her fuck-me-pumps. When we went to the counter, there was some 20-something slacker guy. His eyes about exploded when he looked at her. I could see that he was her wet-dream come true. Mom just wanted a black coffee, with two shots of espresso. "I need something to wake me," she said. I don't recall what I had. When we got the coffee and sat down, mom looked right into my eyes. "I hear that Paula will be home to see her folks in a few weeks. She's on summer break from that college where she teaches." She paused. "Oh?" I replied. "She's a lovely girl. Never r married, I hear from Eileen." That would be Mrs. Beechen. "Very pretty girl." "Oh, as pretty as her mother," I asked. "Even more," said mom. "How about I have Paula and the Beechens to dinner and have you come, too?" "I'd like that , mom," I said, but I really wasn't thinking about Paula. "Well," said mom, "Like mother, like daughter." "How's that mom?" "Quite the ass on that pair," said mom. She looked me straight in eye. A grin came to the corners of her mouth. "Quite the women for having babies." I swear she winked one eye at me. "How about," she said, sipping the last of her coffee, "We go? I'm afraid I've put on a pound or two and need to get out of this dress." "You want to get home?" I asked. "Oh, we don't need to get me home. A little more time visiting would be awfully nice." There was a big smile on her face. I am no idiot, but I played along. "Any place you need to go?" I asked. "The pharmacy?' "Oh, anything you need there, Junior," she asked. "No," I said, all my meds are up to date. "Oh, you need meds? You didn't tell me!" she said, pretending ignorance. "Nothing much," I said. "Why, then let's go to your place and have chat," said mom, smiling. It was five minutes drive to my house. On the way, mom spent a great deal of time adjusting her dress around her ass. "I really have to drop a few pounds," she said when she caught me looking at her hands tugging at the fabric. "No, mom, you look just fine," I answered. I was sincere, not the way most guys would say that. Mom did look fine. So fine that every guy wanted to fuck her. When we got to my place and she came in, I expected her to kick off her shoes, as we always did. No one wore shoes in the house in our family. But she kept the heels on. I led the way into the living room, and then I felt her hand on my shoulder. "Do you like the sofa or the bed?" she asked. "You're in charge, mommy," I said. "No, junior, you're the man." "Then the sofa will be fine, mommy." She walked across the room very slowly, swinging her hips. Her legs seemed about five feet tall. She threw her purse to the side of the sofa, turned like a ballerina, and plopped her ass on the sofa. She look at me. Expressionless. Then one eyebrow went up. She said nothing. I was my move. I walked over to her. My crotch was level with her face. Mommy smiled. She reached forward and took hold of my belt buckle. She undid it, and then undid my pants. As she did this, her mouth was falling open. She grabbed my pants by the hips, on both sides, and then dug her fingers down to grab my underwear. She pulled it all down to my knees. Then she leaned forward and put her mouth to my cock, which was already at half mast in anticipation. She very slowly wrapped her lips around its head and began to lick the tip with her tongue. The she looked up. "I could have used this cream in my coffee," she said. Then she enveloped my cock with her mouth again. I was only a matter of moments before I was stiff as a piece of granite. "Did junior take his medicine?" mommy purred, making eye contact. "The blue pill kicked in during communion," I said. "Praise Jesus!" she answered, and deep-throated my cock without choking. I thrust in. I don't know how many times. But that was fine. I jerked off last night, just in case I was going to spend Sunday with my red-haired mommy. I could last awhile. Mommy pulled her mouth off my cock. A big strand of pre-cum ran from her lips to my cock head. "Tell mommy if you get too close." Then she went to work on me again, slowly licking the shaft of m rock-hard penis. Every fifth or sixth lick, she'd wrap her mouth around the head and suck a few times. She pulled off again. "What kind of lube does Junior like?" she asked "Depends what for," I moaned. "Where's that Vaseline from last time?" she asked. Anal it was. Mommy always did keep her promises. Mommy as still completely dressed. She pulled her mouth from one last major suck on my cock and put her hand in the middle of my chest and pushed me back. "Get it," she commanded in her sternest mommy voice, as if instructing me to do my homework. "Right here, mommy," I answered. I reached just under the sofa. I knew that mommy would like it if I was prepared. "Thank you, sweetie," said mommy with honey in her voice. She leaned forward and gave me a peck on my forehead, as if I'd just taken out the garbage for her. Mommy stood, turned her back to me, and faced the sofa. She bent her knees very slowly, sunk them into the cushions, and then leaned her weight forward. She didn't move. The rest was up to me. I opened the jar of Vaseline and plunged in my right hand. With my left, I grabbed the bottom of her skirt and yanked it, none too gently, over the top of her ass. I gasped with pleasure. Mommy was wearing a white garter belt with straps that held up her stockings. Beneath that, she was wearing crotch-less panties. There was nothing to pull down or get in the way. She was dressed with only one thing in mind: access to my cock. I reached my hand forward and slathered Vaseline up and down her ass crack. Her wide, wide ass was white and beautiful, completely hairless. In the light of day, I saw that her pussy, what I could see from the back, was hairless, too, like a pre-adolescent virgin. Except that her pussy was fat and ripe and bulging for what it wanted. Having greased the crack of her ass, I pushed my fat hard cock against it, sliding up and down the full length of her ass. She moaned with pleasure. "What's that soft toy you have there, Junior?" she teased me. "Nothing, mommy," I said, "you just relax." My rigid cock was engorged, red, and stiff. I grabbed her ass on both sides and squeezed together, and ran my cock up and down. Each time the head of my penis reached her ass hole, I paused and pushed it forward, threatening to penetrate her asshole. Each time, she gasped in anticipation. Each time, I pushed up along the crack of her ass and did not penetrate. I stepped back. Without warning, I plunged the first two fingers of my greased hand into her ass. She grunted. "Oh, daddy, give it to me," she pleaded. I thrust my fingers as deep as they'd go. At the same time, I leaned forward. I put my mouth to her cunt and licked it. Mommy moaned. I parted my lips and took her pussy lips between them and licked and sucked them simultaneously. "Yes, Daddy, give it to me," she screamed loudly. It was like mommy yelling at just anyone when angry. "Oh, no," I reprimanded her. "Aren't you a little girl?" I slapped her ass ferociously. "Yes, Daddy," she meekly replied in her best imitation of a little girl. "Yes, daddy, please fill me up before mommy gets home." "When will mommy get home?" I asked. "Soon, soon! Hurry!" I pulled my fingers from her ass. I stood up, set my cock against her ass, felt the lack of resistance at the very opening of her ass when my cock met it, and pushed hard. "Oh, Daddy, Daddy, yes!" she cried. "Junior! Junior!" I yelled, grabbing a fistful of red hair to hold her still while I thrust forward. "Yes, baby, I don't need daddy if I have you," she screamed. "Pump Mommy's ass!" I pumped mommy's ass while she screamed encouragement. With each lubricated thrust, Vaseline streaming south, I pulled my fat hard cock to the very tip and then plunged it hard in again. "Harder, baby!" mommy screamed. "I'm not made of porcelain. Fuck your mommy hard!" So I fucked mommy's ass hard. And because I jacked off last night to video clip of a lovely redhead MILF, it took me five minutes of hard pounding to reach climax. When I came, in a series of massive spurts, mommy yelled, "Yes, baby, I feel it! Give it mommy! Mommy doesn't need anything but to know her baby is happy!" "Mommy, I'm so glad," I moaned. "I'll go to mass every week if this is my reward." Mother is an Uptight Redhead Ch. 06 I was pretty surprised by mom's idea that I should join her at dinner with Paul and Mrs. Beechen when Paula was home visiting. I didn't think mom like Mrs. Beehen all that that much. Sure, she was always telling me how great Paula was. Little miss prissy perfect ass! Except mommy didn't seem to know that Paula was a total ass slut, just like mom! That one time we hooked up, Paula's lubed ass was both tight and open to my fat, engorged cock. Not counting how thrilling it was to fuck my own mommy's ass, ass-fucking Paula had to be the highlight of my sexual life. From what my mom said, I guess she was now a college professor of algebra. Except that she was a slut, that totally figured. In any case, mom was all intent that we get together when Paula came to see her mom. I was more interested in having a little time up close with Eileen Beechen. Other than an occasional squeeze from her at a neighborhood party, I'd never really had much contact with her. But there were all those times, home from college when I was 20, that I jerked my cock while I looked out my bedroom window, down into her yard when she was sunbathing. She had a habit of coming out about 4:00, when her back yard was in full sun. I'd be waiting in my bedroom with jar of Vaseline, and when she'd lie down on a deck chair, ass up in the air, I'd think about how I'd grind my hard cock deep into her ass. I swear, sometimes while I stroked I believed she could telepathically understand me, because she'd wiggle her wide milf ass from side to side while I was stroking the length of it, thinking of how tight it would be to thrust into her ass. Anyway, mom set up a get-together one Saturday night in the summer, and I was to be at their house at 6:00. "You remember where they live, don't you Junior," asked mom, as if I was a total idiot. As if I couldn't remember looking at back yard of the next house on the block while shooting gallons of cum? "Don't worry, mommy, how about I come over to the house and we'll walk over together?" I asked. "Good idea, seet'ems," she said. Saturday, I figured it would be strange. I didn't really know Mrs. Beechen except as a fantasy slut object, and I'd fucked Paula that one time, so I was going to be weird. I had a couple of bloody Marys while I showered and shaved and got a little buzz going. Then, thinking how I'd probably want to jack off to some porn after seeing them both, I popped a Viagra. I went over to Mom's house and knocked. "Who is it?" she called. "Me, mommy," I yelled. She came to door. I sucked in my breath. I wanted to grad her by the hair and throw her over the nearest chair, hike her skirt and fuck her till she screamed. She was wearing five inch fuck-me-pumps, a skirt halfway between crotch and knee, and a V-shaped neckline that showed her freckled cleavage. "Oh, Junior, can you help mommy-kins zip?"she asked, turning her backside to me. "Yes, mum," I said, and pushed my crotch into her ass as I reached up and pulled the zipper down. She ground her plump ass against my cock as I pulled the zipper up her back so her dress hugged her hips. She turned around and gave me a big wet kiss, lips slightly parted. "Thanks, junior! You're becoming such a helpful boy to your mommy," she said. "But what's this nonsense of knocking on the door?" "I wouldn't want to walk in on you in a private moment," I said. "Nonsense," she said. "Let's go next door." We went out the door and across the lawn, and before we were even there, Eileen Beechen was throwing open her screen door and welcoming us. Glancing back at our own house, I realized that it was just so well lighted that anyone looking from their house into our living room through the side kitchen window could have seen me grinding my cock against mommy's ass. Was Mrs. B watching, waiting for us? Paula was sitting on the sofa, looking at a magazine. She didn't lift her eyes. She was my age, about 30. She looked very fit and trim, like she worked out every day. Her long legs were exposed by her very short shorts. They were tan and lean. Her mom said, "Paula, look, it's Junior." Paula looked up at me and smirked. "Hi, Junior. Long time no see." Except for that one time I ran into her at a college party, I hadn't spent more than two minutes with Paula at any one time in many years. "Hi, Paula. How's teaching treating you?" I asked. "Fine, if you like spending your day with a load of 18 year olds who don't pay attention to you." "I don't know, Paula," I responded, looking directly at the tight wife-beater that hugged her still-perky tits, "seems to me that you can command attention when you want to." "Well, that takes a certain level of interest in what one has to say," she answered. She rolled the magazine into a tube and scratched it up and down on her ass as if scratching an itch. Or as if a big fat cock was going to fuck her ass. But that was certainly my imagination. "Let's have dinner," said Mrs. Beechen, oblivious to the exchange we were having and disrupting the eye contact I had with Paula. Mom and Eileen Beechen started to chatter like a pair of birds about some card tournament they had both been in, and left the two of us to pick at our salads. I spent most of dinner zoning out, helping myself to wine from the open bottle on the table, and staring at Paula's cleavage. Her shirt was of a very thin fabric, and the air conditioning was set at some really low temp, so her nipples were hard as little gems and poked against the material. She kept her eyes on her food, eating slowly, saying nothing. Her breasts were nothing spectacular, not like my mom's or Eileen Beechen's rack, both of which made me think of something wet and smooth that would grease them before I pushed my cock into the folds of flesh. Paula had nice cleavage in a different way; beautiful smooth young skin that showed no signs of age. Smooth like it would feel cool on your hands as you wrapped them around her while entering her doggy-style. My thoughts of how I'd manhandle each of the three women at the table started to arouse my cock and I could feel a drop of pre-cum dribble from its head. We were about done with dinner when the doorbell rang. "That must be Yvonne," said Paula. "I told her I'd go with her to the movies if she couldn't find anyone else. No one else will go see Toy Story 3 with her." "What?" said Eileen, raising her voice a little. "You knew we had company!" "Relax, mom" answered Paula. "I should back in about two hours. It's not like Yvonne will want to go for a drink after. So I'll be back soon." She got up and went to door, saw that it was what she expected, and left. "How about that girl?" asked Eileen. "Can't control them once they grow, I always say." "So," I jumped in, a little slow form the alcohol but hoping not to sound stupid. "How come Paula hasn't settled down? She doesn't like guys?" "Oh, I think she does," laughed Eileen. "She just says she hasn't found the right horse to tame." Eileen and my mom laughed. Mom looked at me in a funny way and then turned her head back towards our hostess. "You know, Eileen," said my mom. "I'm getting a bit of a migraine. I think I better go home and put an ice pack on my head." "Really? Let me help," I said in my innocence. I didn't get up to my feet, though, because I had a stiff erection. "No, no," she said, getting up on her heels and towering over us, "I know right where it is. If I feel better in a little bit, I'll be right back over." I went around the table and held her waist and elbow and led her to the door. "Really, honey, I'll be fine," she said. "And if I don't come back over, I'll see you tomorrow, for mass." She gave me a big, wet long kiss on my cheek. "Visit with Eileen a little," she said, and went out the door and hooked to the right across the lawn. "Well, Junior, it's just us," said Eileen. I had watched mommy's ass sashay across the living room to the door, thinking about not wanting to be too hung over the next morning, because I had a play-date with mommy after I went with her to mass. I turned to look at Eileen Beechen, wondering what on earth we'd have to talk about. TO my shock, she had pushed her chair back a little from the table and she had her elbows up on the back of the chair behind her on either side. With her shoulders back and her breasts thrust into the air, her legs were spread as wide on either side of her as a woman's legs could spread, causing her housedress to hike up over her thighs, exposed her crotch. She was not wearing panties. Her crotch was completely hairless and smooth. "So, Junior. Did you enjoy watching me back when you were in college?" Her voice was in her lowest register. She was almost growling at me. She was teasing me by flashing me! She was going to chew me out now for having watched her in the past. I blushed and stammered something out. "wha-wha what do you mean?" "I think I saw you a time or two up in your bedroom when I was sunbathing," she said, smiling a big smile and brightening her voice. Her legs spread wider, if that was possible. "Well, sure, how could I not see you?" I asked, knowing my cock was obvious in my pants. "You're cute," said Eileen. "Are you hung like you daddy?" "I have no idea," I said, taking a big drink of wine. This conversation was not going where I expected. Eileen was not as prim and proper as I'd dreamed when I was stroking on my stiff rod back when I was 20. I'd always imagined I was violating her sheltered housewife innocence. "Your daddy was like a fire hose," she said. "Nice and fat. I like a really fat cock that stretches me wide. Are you fat and wide, Junior?" "I, I, I ..." I couldn't answer. How do you answer a question like that? "Well, then, let's see," she said. She leaned forward and grabbed my belt buckled and fumbled for my zipper. With her left hand she squeezed my cock through the fabric of my pants. "Feels promising," she teased. "Mrs. B," I protested, "what if mom returns and sees you?" I gasped. "To hell with miss high-and-mighty," she answered. "Your dad got pretty tired of her up-tight ways and came over here when he needed relief. Maybe you'd like the same," she said, looking up to me. Her eyes were big and blue and almost innocent. Funny, I'd spent so much time looking elsewhere that I never noticed that her eyes were just like Paula's. She pulled my zipper down and pushed a hand into my pants. She felt the pre-cum on the end of my cock. Viagra sure made me drippy. She gently rubbed some around on the straining cockhead, then wrapped her hand tight around the shaft and squeezed hard. "Mrs. B!" I protested. "Paula will be back. Mom might be back!" "Then you better get to it, Junior," she said, laughing. She unleashed her grip on my stiff cock, stood up, grabbed my shirt front and pulled me into the living room. "This is fine," she said. She released her hold on me, turned around so that she faced away from me. She faced the big coffee table by the sofa, and sprawled forward across it, ass in the air. There were some magazines on it, the ones Paula had been reading. Mrs. B shoved them off the table so it was clear. "Let's see if you measure up, Junior," she said. With her ass in the air, sprawled across the coffee table, her ass looks just like my mom's. I was rock hard. I reached forward and hiked her skirt over her wide hips. I could smell her pussy, like clams, only better. I pulled my pants down from around my hips, stepped out of them, and exposed myself to the world. "Do you really want this?" I asked. "Hell, Junior, I've been waiting for years to see if your cock measures up. Let's see if it's any good." I didn't wait for any more invitation. I plunged it at the crack of her pussy lips and she was already so wet with her own juices that it slid right in. I grabbed her ass cheeks and pulled them to each side, tightening her pussy on my cock. I slowly pushed into her, very slowly so she would feel every bit of it stretching her and filling her. "Yes, junior, that's it!" she cried in encouragement. "Stuff me!" I pushed to my full length and then slowly, slowly withdrew. Then I ever so slowly pushed back in. "Yes, fill me!"She yelled. I repeated my slow withdrawal and entry four or five times, gradually picking up speed. "Oh, junior, your mommy was right! You are as fat and hard as your daddy!" "What the fuck?" I blurted out. "Oh, we can't keep secrets about the men we have," she said. "I knew I had to have you when she told me how thick you are!" A little taken aback, I rammed my cock to its full length into her wet eager hole, then started to ram it faster and faster. "Yes, give it to me however you want to!" she cried. So I did. I held her ass to steady her, then pulled her back against me. "Come on, Eileen, work that cock!" I commanded her. She pushed back against me each time I pushed. It had been a week since I'd unloaded my cock into mom's ass, so I was primed and ready. It didn't take all that long and I was squirted a gallon of white cream into Eileen Beechen's pussy. When she could feel my throbbing subside, she said, "That was just fine, Junior. Next time, maybe we can work together and I'll come with you." She pulled her pussy off my cock before I was ready. She swung around on the coffee table, legs astride. I could see wet cum dripping from her gleaming, engorged pussy. "Let me help you clean up, Junior," she said. She quickly leaned forward and took my cock in her mouth. It was still rock hard from the viagra a little earlier, from when I assumed I'd get no action and would beat off to some porn when I got home. But her tongue now glided over every inch of my shaft, licking and cleaning it. I could hear her gulp as she swallowed the think strands of pearly semen. Suddenly, I heard the screen door slam, the sound of someone coming in! "Oh, I feel so much better after aspirin and an ice pack," I heard my mother's voice behind me. I stiffened my body, unable to move. "Oh, junior, I see you've been helping Eileen. How nice of you!" she said in her happiest artificial voice. "How was he, Eileen? As good as his dad?" "He needs practice," said Eileen Beechen, pulling her mouth off my cock. "But I think he has potential. I'll be inviting him over again. Now that I'm older, I need a really fat cock to stretch me and make me feel fully stuffed. Since he has that taken care of naturally, I think I'll have you two over to dinner again." "Oh, don't I know," said my mommy, grinning at me. Mother is an Uptight Redhead Ch. 07 Author's note: This is the next morning after chapter 06. * The next morning, after I showered and shaved and ate my breakfast, I laid out the toys we'd need when Mommy came home with me after church. At ten, I started to watch for her car. When it hadn't pulled up at ten after, I was a little concerned. Mom is very punctual. I would have called her, but she never answers her cell phone. She likes to collect the messages and listen later. I was wondering if she'd stood me up, angry that I'd fucked Mrs. Beechen the previous evening. But if Mommy didn't want me to fuck her, why did she leave with that fake excuse about a migraine? She never got them, but had always used them as a convenient excuse when she wanted to avoid someone or something. At twenty after, her car pulled up. I ran outside and went to her car. I was very surprised to see that she did not look like she was dressed for church. "What's wrong," I asked, genuinely concerned. "Don't we have church?" "How can you go to church this morning?" she asked. "Aren't you in mortal sin after your little visit with Eileen last night? I couldn't have it on my conscience that you were there in that holy place without having first gone to confession." "Do you want to go to brunch, instead?" I asked. "No, Junior, I would like to go shopping. I don't want you to eat any greasy breakfast food. It might interfere with your medication. I've read that it can do that" She had a very big smile on her ruby lipsticked lips as she said it. "Why don't you take your pill now, if you haven't already?" I reached in my pocket for it, popped it in my mouth, and swallowed it with my saliva. "Where are we going shopping?" was my next question. "Mommy needs hardware," she answered. "So I need a man to shop with me." She headed for the local big box hardware store. I wondered what we were going to buy. On the way, I considered her clothes. She was wearing a dark skirt that came to her knees, and sensible, boring shoes. Her blouse was also a dark color, and was not very tight. It gave her a shapeless appearance. I did notice that her legs were enclosed in dark pantyhose or nylons. But other than that, and her lipstick, she wasn't dressed sexy. But she'd told me to pop a Viagra, so I had to assume that we were still going to fuck in about an hour. When we got to the store, she had me get a hand-carried basket for merchandise. So we weren't going to be buying anything big. She headed for the aisle with fasteners, looked up and down the wall of merchandise, and then pointed to a big pack of bungee cords. "Those will do nicely," she said. I reached up and pulled a pack from the rack. There were 10 of them in the pack. "Get two, I might need more," she instructed me. "This way," she said, her voice commanding and stern. Mommy was in complete control. I didn't know where we were heading. I did not dare to ask. As we passed one aisle, she walked in and pointed to a bottle of pine-scented cleanser. "Get that," she commanded. "Your kitchen needs to be scrubbed." She kept walking and soon arrived at the hardware aisle of hooks and assorted fasteners. She located a packet of "S" hooks and instructed me to add them to our haul, then she headed for the check-out, where I paid for the items. As soon as we were headed out of the parking lot, I could see that mom was headed for her house, not my place. When we got home, she said, "Pliers are in the kitchen drawer." I knew what she meant; the odd-and-ends drawer. I got it out. "Your room," she instructed. We went upstairs. My old bedroom didn't have much in it. An empty dresser. My old bed, near the window. Next to it was my old desk. I noticed that mom's laptop computer was sitting on the desk. That seemed odd. Why would she use my bedroom as an office? "Did you enjoy Eileen's pussy, darling?" she asked, breaking our long silence. "Would you like to fuck it again." I could only wonder what devious game she was playing. "It was just pussy, mommy. I've had lots of pussy," I answered. "It was nothing special." "Yes, Junior, but would you fuck it again?" "Sure, I guess, if there was the right situation. But it's not as if I'm going to go after her!" What the hell was mommy driving at? It seemed to me that she had gone out of her way to engineer my fuck of the next-door-neighbor! "Okay, Mummy just wants to be clear," she said. "Take your clothes off and lie down." The tone of her voice made it clear that I was not to argue. I quickly stripped and then lay down on the bed, head on the pillow. It was a spare bed that we had for company. It was a lot narrower than a standard bed, so it could be put into a bedroom wherever it was needed on a temporary basis. This narrow spare bed seemed very small. Lying on my back, my elbows were almost off the bed on each side of me. Mom was holding the bag of things we'd purchased. She pulled out the bungee cords, tore open the rope, and hooked two together at the end. With the pliers, she crimped the hook at the end so that the two cords were locked together. My bed was about two feet out from the wall by the widow. She draped the two cords across my chest so that the short end of one was dangling by the floor. She took the longer end and then slid it across the floor under the bed. She leaned over me, picked up the end, and brought it up. I was surprised. When she pulled tight and then hooked the two ends together, crimping again with the pliers, it was tight across my chest. "Guess I don't need the 's' hooks," she said. I could tell that she was annoyed for having wasted two dollars. I was pretty sure she'd take them back for a refund. She repeated the process four more times, pinning me down from ankle to chest with the bungee cords. I was helpless. True, if I'd really worked at it I could release myself, but my desire to discover what Mommy drove that passing thought from my mind. It was clear that she wanted me pinned down, not that she was restraining me entirely against my will. "From now on, Mommy thinks Junior should ask Mommy about who Junior fucks," she said, sternly. "Junior needs permission to put his meat in someone else and then into his Mommy. But Eileen is hygienic, so I'll excuse you this one time." She crooked a leg and took off one shoe, then did the same for the other. She walked out of the room, carrying her shoes. I heard her go down the hall to her bedroom. A minute later, I heard a sharp clicking on the hall floor, and she came back in, wearing her black high heels. She made eye contact with me. "Junior is defiled with sin," she said. "So I do no wrong to you in what I do." She grabbed the bottom of her shapeless blouse and pulled it up over her head. She was wearing a black bra that only embraced the bottom of her ample breasts, holding them up. Her nipples were fully exposed, and were clearly rigid. Since it was not cold in the house, I could tell that she was sexually aroused. Next, she reached to the top of her thick skirt and pulled it down. It turned out that she was wearing dark stockings, held in place with a black garter belt. She wasn't wearing underwear. "Oh, that's a good boy," she said, laughing. I realized that my cock was suddenly standing at attention, rock hard. She went to the desk and moved the laptop a few inches to the left and tilted the screen down a little. I could see it very clearly. It looked to me as if she had the "video" program running. She hit a command. Then she pulled up a web browser that was set up in advance, then hit some other command. Suddenly, with high volume, a video was playing. A MILF porn actress was telling her "son" how much she needed his cock. She was, no surprise, a redhead with ample tits. Next, mom opened the desk drawer and took out a jar of Vaseline and a towel. She took off the cap and brought them over to the bed. She took a big smear of the fuck-grease into her right hand, then wiped it up and own on my rigid cock. She wrapped her fingers very tightly around my shaft and pumped up and down. "Junior, watch your movie," she said, sternly. What could I do? The hot MILF was titty-fucking her "son," telling him, "fuck me, son!" I was hard beyond belief, with a cock covered in lube. Mommy, in her seductive lingerie, straddled the bed so that she was standing over me. She slowly lowered her ass toward my cock, reaching down with one hand and grabbing the greasy shaft, and then lowered further and directed it toward her pussy lips. She slowly lowered herself further until I felt her warm flesh come into contact with the tip of my erect cock. A moment later, I felt the warmth envelop my shaft as I entered her. Once the first two inches were in place, she relaxed her knees and let her weight drive her cunt down onto my stiff, greased rod. It slid in, to my delight and her moans. Although my arms were pinned from my elbows to my shoulders, my hands were partially free. I grabbed her thighs and pulled her down more tightly while thrusting up into her. "Don't you dare!" she said. "Hands off." It was her most no-nonsense voice. I dropped my hands and relaxed my back. Once I'd obeyed, she pushed down, as if rewarding me. Once I was balls deep in her cunt, she looked down at me. "How does it compare to last night?" she inquired, sternly. "Much nicer," I said. "Mommy is so much nicer than some slut." Mommy looked pleased. "Tell me more, Junior." "Mrs. Beechen has fucked too much. She's a whore with a loose cunt," I lied. Mommy lifted her weight and then drove down on me again. "Good boy," she grinned. "What about Paula?" she asked. "Don't you think she'd be fun?" Mommy lifted her weight and dropped it again. At this point she was only making me more rigid. Given my recent activity, it would take a while for me to shoot into her. "What about her?" I answered. "I like to fuck women, and she has a cunt. But it's not like being rewarded with a Mommy's love." "Good boy," she said, raising and lowering herself more rapidly. She leaned forward and thrust her nipples toward my mouth. I understood, and took one of them into my mouth. "Bite!" she commanded, thrusting down on me. I gave her rigid nipple a small bite with my teeth. "NO! BITE," she screamed at me, grinding down on me. I bit hard. She moaned in response. As I bit mommy's nipples, first one, then the other, she ground her ass each time she brought her greasy hole down onto my fat hard penis. Without warning, she stood up. My cock stood straight up in the air. I could see the blue veins standing out from the red flesh. Mom reached for the Vaseline and thrust her hand into it. She brought out a big slab of it, turned her tits and face and ass away from me, bent at the waist, reached back, and pushed her hand into her ass. Her ample ass cheeks parted, and I could see that she was pushing several lubed fingers into her asshole. "When Junior goes to confession," she said in her sweetest voice, "he should think about what he will get in heaven. Perhaps if he is good, he will have the reward of tight virgin ass every day." She straddled me again, reverse cowboy style, and lowered herself. With one hand she felt for my cock, then slid her hand to near the base of the shaft so that she could direct it. When she felt the cock-head come into contact with the curving hairless canyon between her ass cheeks, she guided it toward her waiting asshole. She was working by feel. When she felt the head of my cock at the opening, she gradually lowered herself further. In one long motion of her body, I felt my stiff cock enveloped by the tightest glove imaginable. The head of my cock was moving slowly into her ass. I heard a mild buzzing sound. I hadn't realized that mom had taken something else from the drawer. Her free hand was holding a small vibrator, and she placed it between her legs. On her clit, I assumed. She began to move up and down on my cock, driving it more deeply into her ass with each motion. She pulled up each time so that I was almost ready to fall out. Sensing this, she would drive back down, filling herself and moaning aloud. From the desk, I became aware of the soundtrack of the porno on the laptop. "Fuck mommy's ass, Fuck mommy's ass!" said a sultry voice. Fuck mommy's ass, Fuck mommy's ass!" said my mother, in a responsive echo. She began to move more rapidly up and down. "Paula wants to fuck you!" she yelled, almost frantic as she pumped her ass and worked her clit with the tool. "She wants to get back at Eileen!" I didn't know how to answer. But mom had made me the submissive, so I suddenly understood. "Yes, Mommy, you want me to fuck Paula to get back at her mom," I said. "Good boy!" she squealed. "Uh, Uh, Uh. Uh." She was panting. She was coming! She did not allow her pleasure to lead to a loss of control. She kept moving up and down in the same satisfying rhythm. She merely put out one hand and braced herself on the wall while she continued to take it up the ass. Her heavy rapid panting continued for half a minute while she drove her ass onto my penis another ten or twelve times. The pleasure was becoming unbearable. "Mommy, may I come?" I yelled. "Yes, Junior, whenever you're ready!" she answered. Her voice was a little shaky. "Ohhhhhhhh, fuck, YES! Take it mommy!" And I shot a load into mommy's ass for the third time. My cock jerked with each wave of my orgasm. Although I'd emptied a load of cum into Eileen the night before, it still felt as if waves of creamy goo were emptying into her ass, which was so tight around my cock that the spasms of come were only released because her pumping action was squeezing my load up my shaft. At least it felt that way. I felt as if I wanted to faint from the intensity. After my cock was squeezed dry by the firm grip of her asshole, I let out a huge sigh of satisfaction. The room was quiet. The video on the laptop had reached its end. Ever so slowly, my mother stood up from her straddling position, and my still rigid cock was released from the grip of the ass that had pumped me dry. Standing beside me in high heels, stockings, garter belt and a push-up frontless bra, red hair flaming in the sunlight coming through the window, she was the very image of a ripe fuck-Goddess, an Aphrodite designed to collect seed from eager lustful men. She made eye contact with me and smiled. "Rest a minute and then work your way out of those," she said. "Mommy is going to go start pancakes and bacon." With that, she turned on her heels and left the room. Mother is an Uptight Redhead Ch. 08 When I had worked my way out of the restraints and went downstairs, I saw I sight that took my breath away. Mommy was standing at the stove in her high heels and stockings. Still in her garter belt and heels, she was facing the stove. Her ass was thrust high in the air by her heels, arching her back ever so slightly and thrusting her ass up, where it hung in the air like a perfect pair of celestial globes. Her long, thick, middle-aged legs were just ever so slightly apart, forming a lovely V the led from her cunt downward. I could smell bacon and pancakes. "How may pancakes?" she asked. She'd heard me coming down the stairs. "Two." I continued to evaluate her from the back. Of course her body had the solid meat on her bones that one expects when a woman is 50, but despite the years she preserved an hourglass figure with a waist. I stared at those long legs that went on forever until they went into her heels. If she wasn't mom and I saw her from behind in a bar or if I was standing in line behind her at the CVS pharmacy, she'd stir my cock and I'd think about how I'd like to fuck her. The reality that she was my mom and she liked to fuck me back only complicated matters. I realized that my cock really was stirring. She'd dominated me. I had to make it clear that she was not the one in charge. I saw the butter dish on the table. I ran my index finger along the edge of the butter and took away a slice of it. I palmed it, and rolled the gob of greasy fat around in my hand, coating my fingers. Then I rubbed it over my hardening pink shaft. By the time I had rubbed it all over while watching Mommy's fine ass, I was standing at attention, glistening. The veins along the length of the shaft were beginning to stand out. I walked up behind her. "This looks great," I said, and pushed my pelvis forward, thrusting my engorged cock into the crack of her ass. I put my hands on either side of her waist and ground my hips, thrusting forward, so she'd feel my fat Viagra-fueled cock filling her ass crack, up and down, up and down. She didn't flinch. She threw a couple of pancakes on a plate and then stirred the bacon. What an uptight German bitch. She was not going to acknowledge me. Two can play any game that one starts. I reached down with my hands and grabbed her ass cheeks at the bottom, then pulled them apart. I didn't assume that her pussy was still dripping wet from our fucking a few minutes before. She's as prissy as she is pretty, and she had probably rinsed the white globs of sperm from her while I was getting out of the restraints. I aimed the head of my well-oiled cock at her pussy and pushed forward. TOO HIGH! Or so I guessed from the failure to find a welcoming slit. My cock careened up the valley of her ass crack again. While it felt smooth and delightful, it wasn't my target. Mom gave a little snort, a mix of laughter and condescension. I removed my right hand from her ass and guided my rigid meat lower, then thrust forward again. From the warmth of parting flesh I could tell that I'd hit the mother lode of pussy. I thrust again, deep, and now she let out a tiny gasp. I could feel that her legs had gone rigid so that my thrusting wouldn't push her forward into the stove. She put her left hand on the left front edge of it, to steady herself. In her other hand she held a spatula. As my cock head entered her wet dripping cunt, Mom didn't flinch. She set down the spatula, reached over and picked up the bowl of pancake batter, tilted it, and formed three perfect cakes on the griddle, then set the bowl down. I pulled out very slowly until only the tip of my cock was still engaged with her, then slowly pushed back in, my buttered cock enjoying the tight embrace of her moistening slit. "That's nice, honey," she said, as if I'd just showed her a good score on a third grade homework assignment. I thrust hard into her now-slippery cavern. The Viagra hadn't worn off, I hadn't eaten anything, and I was completely engorged again. But having only erupted with spurts of my seed a short time before, I could now thrust with force again and again and again for a much longer time before I'd explode again. This wasn't just about pleasure, so I didn't hold back. I fucked her as hard as I've ever fucked. She didn't move. She didn't acknowledge. She kept being Mommy. But I knew. Mommy was a fuck-slut who wanted to play games while she got filled with cock. She could not admit that she liked sex, and wanted cock, and wanted MY cock. "I'm fucking you, MOM, like I've wanted to fuck you for years!" I yelled at her, thrusting violently and feeling her cunt pinch me, as if she was squeezing it around me to give me pleasure. "You can pretend it's just Sunday and you're just cooking, but that's just a game! Your boy is in you now!" She still pretended to proceed as if nothing was taking place. That was the attraction. I could see that Mommy could hide the sexual side while she went about her daily work, but all the while she was actually thinking about fat hard cock. 'Hurry up, son, your bacon is done," she said, pulling the dripping strips of meat from the pan. Once her cooking task was done, I felt a very slight relaxation of her legs and ass and back, as if the tension in her shoulders was released. I could tell that her rigid self-discipline was being released. The moment she turned off the burner on the stove, I pulled out my cock, put both hands on her shoulders, and pulled her to one side so she now faced the kitchen counter beside the fridge. I reached up and quickly grabbed both her wrists and guided her hands to the kitchen counter. Then I put my own hands on her hips again so that she would not move, and guided my throbbing meat back to her dripping pussy. I thrust it in. With the food off the stove, she now relaxed and thrust her ass back to me as I pushed into her. "Your food is getting cold," she said in teasing voice. I could tell she was having fun. "I'll have some meat after you are full," I said. She pushed her ass back harder, grinding me, balls deep, into her cunt. As I drove my cock into my mother, she was facing the counter. She was, as a result, facing the open kitchen window that opened across the yard to the Beechen house kitchen. Seen from the front, she was wearing nothing but a skimpy apron so that her white, freckled tits were almost completely exposed. Thankfully, it was Sunday. No one would be walking by. She placed each hand on the edge of the counter for a better grip and, steady, I drove hard into her. "Is that all you got?" she cried out, but her voice was high pitched that I could tell that she was into it and was only faking her verbal response. Her body was her true response to the presence of her son's fat rigid cock in her pussy for a second time in an hour. She was grinding her ass back at me, trying to position her clit so that the shaft of my cock would rub it as I entered her slippery hole. "Does Mommy want to cum?" I asked her, teasing her. I didn't think she'd admit it. "Mommy cums twice every day, so Junior should make it happen," she replied. Twice a day? Was this mere mind games? I thrust, feeling the wetness of pussy cream and my own deposit of cum lubing every thrust. Her feeble attempts to get my cock aligned with her clitoris were frustrated by her high hells, thrusting her ass into air. I pounded harder, pounded harder, and enjoyed the knowledge that she was wide awake, aching for an orgasm, but I would be the only one to climax. And I did. I thought it was powerful before, when she'd dominated me. But there is no orgasm like that of the dominating victory. Now she was letting me know that I was in control. I didn't have nearly as much to shoot into her, but the pleasure of each spasm of my load was intensified by her WILLING submission. No drugs. Just my cock in Mommy, with her acceptance. "Ugh, Ugh, Ugh, Ugh," I grunted, starting to orgasm for the second time in half an hour. It was not as explosively satisfying as shooting my load the earlier time. It felt more like a series of pleasurable jerks of my cock. More than the orgasm, I enjoyed fact that I was having one and she was not. When my jerking cock calmed down, she reached for a kitchen towel and put it on her shoulder. I understood, and put it around my cock as I pulled out, cleaning myself. I tucked the cloth into the triangle where cunt meets inner thighs. She thankfully reached down and pushed it to her pussy. I knew she didn't want any drip on the tile. She was still facing the open window. When she called out, I could detect the fake smile of her voice. "Hi, Paula, how was last night's movie?" Mother is an Uptight Redhead Ch. 09 We were in the kitchen. I had shot my load for the second time that morning and had pulled my meat out of my mom's pussy when I heard mom call out, "Hi, Paula, how was last night's movie?" My jaw dropped as I quickly took five steps back across the kitchen tile and ducked into the hall. If Paula was outside somewhere, she would have been looking up to the kitchen window and, with luck, hadn't seen me. My next thought was that mom's apron wasn't covering the upper part of her chest. Seen at an angle from below, she might even appear to be topless. "It was good. I liked it better than the second Toy Story movie." From the sound of her voice, it sounded like Paula was walking toward our house. That meant she probably had not seen me and didn't know what a mommy-lusting, mommy-fucking pervert I was. But this was definitely a new twist in the game of domination. "I'll just have to wait for it to come out on DVD," said mom. She wasn't calling out now, so Paula was close by. "How much longer are you in town?" she asked Paula. "Just until late tonight. I have to catch the red-eye flight home so I can teach a class tomorrow afternoon," she said. "Well, then, I won't keep you from your time with your mother," said my mom, again with the fake cheerfulness I knew so well. It usually masked the degree that she was judging the person she was talking with. "And tell your mom that last night's dinner was delicious. Junior liked it, too, especially dessert. Have a safe trip home!" I waited until I heard the screen door slam next door, which meant that Paula had gone into her mom's house. "How could you?" I hissed, not too loud. I could barely control my anger. "Are you crazy, trying to get caught?" "So what if she knows?" asked Mom, genuinely smiling. "She'll tell her mom? Eileen knows, as you perfectly well know. So what do you care if she knows where you dip your candle?" "Yeah, but..." I started to say. But what? I couldn't think of what to say next. What would the neighbors think? Yeah, right. And mom and I are both adults, so it's no crime. "Now eat you pancakes," said my mom. The tone of her voice made it clear that she was done with that conversation. The topic of our mutual sex life did not return to our conversation during our meal. Then she drove me home, like it was any day and we were any other family. I had a pile of work waiting for me at home and got busy with it. I was getting hungry, thinking about calling for pizza delivery, when the doorbell rang. I looked around the edge of the heavy blue curtains in my living room. I know, pretty upscale for a bachelor in a rental house, but they were there when I moved in. I liked them, because they made sure I had privacy from the street. The first thing I noticed was the taxi at the curb, with the driver looking at my front door. I glanced to the right, to the steps by my front door, and saw that someone with a suitcase was at my door. I couldn't tell who it was. The doorbell sounded again, this time with long pressure. Imagine my shock when she stepped back, as if giving up. It was Paula. I froze. If I didn't go to the door, she'd get in the taxi and leave. That was why the cab driver was waiting, right? She rang the bell again. A million thoughts went through my mind, not the least of which was the deciding one. My one encounter with Paula, years before, was one of the best fucks of my life. Here she was, ringing my doorbell. Opportunity apparently does arrive twice. I went to the door and opened it. "Hey, Junior," she said, big grin on her face and a twinkle in her eyes behind her nerdy glasses. She was wearing a dumpy gray sweatshirt with the name of the college where she teaches, jeans, and comfortable slip-on shoes. "Can we chat?" "Sure. Have you had dinner? I was about to have some." Paula stepped in, depositing the suitcase just inside the door. She turned and waved at the taxi, and it pulled away and drove off. "How are you?" I started to ask, and she cut me off with a practiced school-teacher voice. "Let's get to the point," she said. "I'm going to the airport. Give me a ride and save me the further thirty bucks for the cab and I'll pay you in trade." I felt my jaw drop a little, and my eyes widen. Was I completely surrounded by crazy women? I was certainly surrounded by women who had strong ideas about what I should do with myself. She looked me in the eye, and then let her eyes wander around the room. They fixed on a spot just slightly behind me, and she grinned broadly. "Were you expecting company?" she asked, laughing. It was quite a girlish laugh. Not the usual prim Paula, as I thought of her. I realized that she was looking where I'd laid out the sex toys, thinking mom was coming to my place, and they were still right there, in plain sight on the coffee table. I'm sure I looked like a total idiot at that moment. "Don't say anything, Junior," she said, chuckling. "I know you're a well-greased fuck-toy. Your mom was still at my house when I got home from the movies, and I heard plenty." "Jeez!" I sputtered. "Do you women share everything?" "Oh, no, I came in the back, quietly, and listened. I heard your mom bragging how she'd have you pop Viagra before she'd fuck you this morning," Paula explained, almost as if giving a lecture to students. I wanted to pull a blackboard from the closet for her to make a diagram. She continued, "If you want to know more, the deal is that you take a Viagra now. I'm sure the one you used on your mom has worn off now." She looked at me. She had the look of a bored sales clerk who was waiting to hear what you wanted. There was no warmth in her offer. But I couldn't lose in this deal. "Sure, Paula," I said, "Let me get a pill. You know it takes a little while to work." "I told you I have a few hours," she said in her flat response, as if explaining something to a very dull child. I went to the bathroom, took a pill, and came back. "Here's the deal," she told me. Show me what's on your computer. Show me a porn site you go to when you jerk off. We'll look at that for a little while." "Okay," I answered. "In here." I took her in the spare bedroom, which is my study with the computer, where I'd been working all afternoon. I didn't have to hunt around. I had a few sites bookmarked. I have some that I've joined under different names. I sat at my desk and pulled up a site called "Smutty," where my handle is Fatviagracock. I like it because it's easy to sort things by their descriptions. Milf, titfuck, that sort of thing. I logged in, and went to a page of images that were of women's buttocks, either thrust in the air, doggystyle, or thrust up by high heels. "How about anal?" I asked her. "That's so sweet of you to remember," Paula said, with another girlish laugh. She wasn't really an ice queen. But of course I knew that. She pointed to an image of a middle-aged woman bent over a bed, shoving her ass high in the air. Her buttocks were glistening with some kind of lube, and a HUGE cock was poised to enter he puckered anal opening. "Tell me about that one. I see you tagged as a 'like'," she said. "She looks a little older than you, Junior." She was standing behind me. Without any prompt from me, she was suddenly making some kind of motion behind me. I twisted my head to look. She was pulling her sweatshirt over her head. To my surprise, she was wearing a tiny, tiny black bra. She didn't have an especially large rack, and I hadn't seen her breasts in years. I was shocked to see a tattoo, in green ink, vertical across her left breast top. It was a mermaid swimming forward, head toward her cleavage, with the mermaid's mouth wrapped around a dildo. It was carefully placed. As long as Paula avoided wearing low-cut blouses or anything else with a lot of cleavage, no one was going to see it. She could see I was staring at the tattoo. "It's not the only one. They're kind of addictive," Paul told me. "Be a good junior and tell me about that picture and maybe you'll see my tramp stamp." I'd forgotten our game in the moment, and looked back at the screen. "Why do you like that one?" she asked again. "Because she reminds me of my mom," I explained. "But you already guessed that." "Yes, but I like to hear you say it," said Paula. "Scroll down the page slowly and let me see some more. Because of what I heard our mom's talking about, I waited after breakfast until your mom's car drove up. You two went inside, and after a while I saw your mom in the kitchen. So I went upstairs and looked out the bathroom window, where we can see down into your kitchen. It looked like your mom wasn't wearing anything but an apron, but she wasn't by the window very much so I couldn't really see. But I did see you come in and cross the kitchen, and you were naked. So I went outside and walked over by your kitchen window. It was open a little, and I could hear some pretty filthy shit coming out of your mouth when you fucked her." Paula's story surprised me, but hearing her prim voice say "shit" was the biggest of those surprises! Here she was, playing a sex game, but that one word seemed too out of character. She made me explain why I liked several of the other images on the page, and why I didn't like some others. "OOOH! I like that one! Scroll back," Paula squealed. It was another girlish sound. There was a side to this girl that she did her best to suppress. I was starting to realize that that was true of women in general. I scrolled back up until she said, "THERE!" It was an image of a woman of about 20, standing, ass facing the camera, pushing a black dildo into her anus. "Do you think a cock as fat as yours will fit into her other hole with that bad boy in her ass?" asked Paula. "As I remember it, you cock is a wide one." "With enough lube and a little patience, most things are possible," I told her, grinning. She looked me in the eye and grinned back. A bulge in my pants was growing bigger. I liked her games. "Let's see you toy collection," she invited me. I need no more invite, and got up and we went back to the living room. I expected her to go for the big red dildo. I thought we'd play the game she'd just suggested. Instead, she picked up the strap-on that I'd bought some years ago. I'd bought it to use on my girlfriend, thinking I'd warm her up with it before fucking her. That was before I had pills that kept me hard for a long time. But Molly had taken one look at it and it was never put into play. "How many times has this been up your ass?" Paula asked, eyes widening. "Never," I answered. "That's the one for ass play." I pointed to a smaller, curved dildo that was good for massaging my prostate. "Not tonight junior," she said. Paula kicked off her shoes. Her feet were bare. She grabbed the top of her pants on either side and pulled them downward as she lifted her right foot. She stepped out of the pants leg, then did the same with the left. She was wearing tiny back lace panties that matched her bra. There was another tattoo visible now: a mermaid's tail rising up, out of her crotch. The mermaid's head was somewhere down in there, out of sight. She picked up the strapped dildo. She faced it forward, leaned forward, and in a swift motion stepped into it with one foot and then another. She'd hadn't taken any time to figure it out, which told me all I needed to know about her sexual expertise with this particular toy. She lifted the straps to her waist so that the hard fat rod was shooting from her pelvis at a 45 degree angle. She fumbled, finding how to tighten the strap for her waist, but after a moment she was tightening it. She was ready. She picked up the jar of Vaseline. "Strip, junior, and position yourself over the barstool," she commanded with a firm voice. I kept two such stools at the kitchen counter. She understood their primary use. I pulled a stool clear of the counter. I took off my clothes. She evaluated me as I did so, as if she was trying to decide if the fish in the display case was fresh enough. I wasn't too embarrassed. I hadn't let myself go to the dogs since college, when she'd last gotten a good look at my body. "No warm ups?" I asked her. "I think not," she said in a voice that didn't invite argument. I faced away from her and lowered my abdomen on the stool, then leaned farther forward, reached down, and grabbed two legs of the stool near the floor with either hand. My arched back left my ass hanging in the air. Paula walked over and hit the inside of my heel with her foot. "Move your feet out," she commanded. I obeyed. I heard to metallic clang of the Vaseline lid on the floor. I heard her walk behind me, into the kitchen. From the corner of my eye I could see that she was getting a towel from the rack. As she walked back toward me, her right hand was wrapped around the strap-on's artificial cock, rubbing the lube up and down generously. She threw the towel onto the middle of my back. "Relax as much as you can," she said. She was fast. As I was releasing the tension in my shoulders, I felt the coldness of the dildo at my asshole. I could barely feel it as pressure when I felt the rush of pain as she shoved it against the resistance of my sphincter muscles. It was good that I was gripping something. It wasn't that she shoved fast. It was that she shoved steady. The pain at the opening was followed by the warm rush of further pain that swept into my rectum. I grunted with pain. She paused, not because of the grunt but because the strap-on was well into me. "This is a big one you bought," she said, with a hint of approval. I felt one her hands in the middle of my lower back, palm pressing down, and then I felt her other hand reach down around the right side of my ass and up again, where she fumbled for a moment until her hand found my cock. Her right hand was smeared with the Vaseline she'd used to lube the big dildo that was now inside me. She roughly squeezed my cock, which had gone somewhat soft. She stroked it. Hard and with firm command. She didn't move the dildo, but held still while her hand jerked me. "Let's see if it's fat like I remember," Paula said. And it was indeed starting to get hard and fat. "That's it, that's a good boy. There are women in this world besides mamma," she continued. "You need to broaden your interests, junior. Now take it like you're my bitch." Soon, I was hard as a rock from the movement of her hand and the dirty talk, and she slowly moved her hips back and withdrew the rod most of its length. While she pulled back, she loosened her grip on my penis. As I felt her hand tighten on my cock again, gripping me but not moving, I also felt the dildo drive into my ass with a steady, slow motion. It was not really pain any more. It was the satisfying feeling of being open and exposed and very full of someone else who was in control. One hard push forward and there would be pain again, but Paula seemed to know when to stop pushing. When she did stop, she gave my cock three long strokes, keeping it fully erect. Then the hand went steady, gripping without stroking, the dildo withdrew, and the pattern was established. Stroke. Stop. Withdraw. Grip. Push in. Stop. Stroke Stroke Stroke. Repeat. I wasn't counting. There were maybe ten cycles of this exquisite sense of being filled and then stroked. But this was the fourth time I'd had sex in twenty-four hours. I wasn't going to come right away. Then Paula stopped and with a sudden, delicious movement, pulled the strap-on from my ass. "You've been a good, boy, Junior, but don't get up just yet." There was genuine pleasure in her voice. "If you'll do as I say, I'll take my turn bending over the stool, and you can get your rocks off however you want." "What's the catch?" I asked. "You have to keep this in your ass the whole time," she answered. She leaned down and picked up a rather fat dildo that was on the coffee table. It was dildo that had been in my ass many times while I lay on the couch, jerking off to porn movies. She scooped a little more Vaseline from the jar and smeared it over the business end of the dildo. Then she thrust it into my ass, still gaping open from the strap-on. "Hold it there with one hand," she commanded, "and you can fuck me how you want." I reached back around with my left hand and grabbed the base of the dildo so it stayed deep in my ass. Then I stood up. Without a word, Paula bent over the stool and grabbed the lower portion of two legs. Then she spread her legs. She was still wearing the strap-on, but it was dangling between the stool's legs. I had access to both pussy and ass. With my left hand occupied, I felt her firm ass with my right hand, ran my fingers down the beautiful crack of her ass, and pushed my middle fingers into the middle of her crotch. She was excited, because her cunt was quite wet. My cock was still stiff and I pushed into the waiting slit. "Yes, Junior!" she said with some excitement, a slight squeal in her voice. "Fuck me like you fuck my mommy and your mommy! Show me that you're a cock-service for women! Be my toy, too!" While she said it, Paula pushed her ass back toward me, so I drove deep into her wetness. I liked the way she was taunting me. Paula was far more reciprocal in her roleplaying than my mom. It made up for the fact that my cock wasn't getting all that much pleasure from Paula. I just didn't have all that much to give. But I pushed hard, and steady, and then I felt my sphincter loosen on the dildo filling my ass when I finally shot a few drops of semen into Paula. When I pulled out of her, she turned her head and playfully looked me in the eye and said, "My turn to finish up." She loosened the waist strap of the strap-on, and guided it to the floor. She walked to the coffee table, picked up a small hand-held vibrator, and fell back onto the couch. Paula spread her legs and put the vibrator to her clit. She threw her head back and closed her eyes. She didn't make much noise while she came. But her mouth fell open and she started to breathe more loudly, and she arched her back. After about a minute, she pulled the vibrator away and sat there, very still. When she finally opened her eyes, she looked at me and smiled. "Let's shower, then we can stop for something to eat on the way to the airport," she proposed. "It will be like a first date."