5 comments/ 66577 views/ 20 favorites Jogging Vixen Ch. 01 By: Artaeus *=========================* It's been a long time since the last story I submitted, I felt it was about time I added something new. I hope you enjoy this new series which I look forward to updating as regularly as I can. And always remember to read responsibly. *=========================* She has a ritual. Every day she runs, working out muscles along her thighs and calves. Every day she's out there when the sun is beginning to set and brings about that warm glow to cover the world. Every day, I watch her from my bedroom window fantasizing about what I want to do to her. The first time I ever saw her, was when I was eighteen. I had just moved to a new house in one of those prebuilt residential areas meant to house a thousand people with very little space between homes. It was supposed to be a boom-town scenario, with families from all over coming to live there and make a proper neighborhood. Instead, it was just our house, my mother and I. A lonely little building surrounded by a scant few trees and shrubs, with a wide cul-de-sac supporting our singular home. It was nice, though, because I got to go exploring the countryside around our home. All sorts of interesting bits of landscape leant itself to my travels and imagination, while also giving me ample opportunities to experiment with myself in the beauty that was nature. As for the woman, she was absolutely stunning. Tall with a lean build from spending so much time working out, she wore her hair long and dark red to contrast beautifully with the light bronzing of near flawless skin. What I loved the most, though, was watching the way her hips stretched out the nearly transparent material of her yoga pants, and how her sports bra barely helped contain the heavy mounds of breast-flesh that bounced and swayed with every stride. She was poetry in motion. Every time I watched her, I could feel myself getting aroused. Not just horny, but thoroughly aroused through every part of my body. I could feel the whole of my skin and muscles flushing with that ultimate desire to bed her and love her like no other man could. It became an all consuming obsession, until the only thing I could think about was that woman, jogging out front with her body nearly on complete display. It turned from just watching her the first few weeks, to sitting naked next to my window. Leaning back, cock in hand fully-hard and aching for attention, I would rub myself long before she would appear out front, ready for the moment when her beautiful form would slip out from behind the trees into full view and grace me with that image of perfection. It didn't take long before I was shooting ropes of young seed across my bedroom wall and leaving a sticky mess of my thighs and hands. A week later, and I wasn't content to just wait for her to jog past. My every thought was about her, remembering the way she looked as she would bounce along the sidewalk. I spent hours naked in my room, stroking and pumping my young shaft until I thought I was going to rub it raw. Fantasies emerged. Simply things at first, having her naked in my bedroom, having her naked in the living room, being outside when she would jog past and catching a glimpse of her naked breasts. Each time I wanted more, and my fantasies continued to grow from there. Each time it was something more perverted and sickening until I started to think I was going mad. My obsession finally took me to planning. Fantasy wasn't enough anymore, I wanted to have her. I wanted to possess her the way any man would want to have a woman. I remember the first day that I decided to move beyond just masturbating at my window, I was filled with a trembling excitement. My entire body was sweating so hard I thought I would drown where I knelt. This was an escalation of all my previous thoughts, my sessions in my room becoming something entirely different. Naked, hidden in the bushes near the sidewalk but just far enough away I wouldn't be heard, I waited for her to come into sight. My cock was made of stone at that point while I gingerly stroked it, though I had to be careful, being as close to cumming as I was. It wasn't too much longer before she came up the street. From where I knelt I could see her large nipples sticking out from the sports bra, clearly visible thanks to her own perspiration soaking the fabric. I wanted to think of her as a slut, so proudly displaying herself and begging for a good fuck, but I couldn't. Then she was there, in front of me. Only a brief moment, but she was so very close. I wanted to reach out and touch her, wrap my hands around her breasts and squeeze until the fabric ripped. I wanted to hold her down and rub my swollen length between her sweaty thighs until I burst in streams and gallons of seed against her sodden mound. I groaned out loud as I came then, pumping my seed onto the ground at my knees. My whole body shook and jerked as I kept squeezing my spasming cock, losing track of the world and where that woman went. It took me far too long to regain my senses, and by then, she had already disappeared back down the street. Still, I had made the first of my own personal steps towards taking what I wanted, having my way with an older woman like her. A few days later, my courage restored, I decided to be bolder. Naked again, this time in my front window, I stood there proudly with my hand wrapped around myself. Slow strokes, nerves buzzing with energy, I watched as she jogged up the street. I knew she would see me, she had to see me. Swallowing my excitement down, my fist pumped hard and quick down my cock. I watched with painfully rapt attention for the look on her face when she saw me, standing there. I watched as her eyes narrowed, then widened. I watched as her mouth opened in shocked surprise then her eyes darted away and her cheeks flushed. Most of all, I watched as her nipples seemed to swell beneath that thin material, showing that she liked what she saw. Her pace quickened, and I came against the glass of our front window. There was so much of it that I was afraid moments later, that I wouldn't be able to clean it all up. It ran down in long streaks and pooled against the sill, looking like someone had jumped on a lotion bottle and exploded it across the window. I did my best to wipe up the sticky mess, before falling weak-kneed onto the couch and dozing. Lost in my nap, I didn't hear the back door opening and closing. What I did hear was that sharply audible gasp and my name being called out by my mother as she stood there across the room, covered in sweat that made her sports-bra transparent and her skin-tight shorts, sheer. "What are you doing?!" she cried out, hands on hips as she stared down at my naked body. Shocked into stiffness from head to toe, I was suddenly facing the object of my desire and she was seeing me for the pervert that I was. "I-I'm sorry!" It was a feeble thing to say, because I wasn't. Mind and body finally got on the same page and I made a quick retreat back to my room. There I hid away until night came and went, and most of the morning had passed. Out of habit I stood near my window and wait for her, but as I expected, mom didn't go jogging. Disappointed and feeling horrible that I had been discovered more than my display in the front window, I went back to sulking at my desk or across my bed, all intentions to masturbate leaving me and my cock unwilling to even think about getting hard. The second day passed much the same, and again my depression continued. Days three and four were little more than dark moments of my life that I would have loved to forget. By the end of the week, I had almost given up ever seeing my mother jogging again. Instead, I was looking for something new to fill my time with, as I hadn't even talked to her since the day she found me in the living room. Passing by my window while getting changed to go out hiking, I happened to catch a glimpse of movement outside. There, out in the front yard, was mom in her jogging outfit. That glorious, beautiful vixen of womanly perfection out front, but not jogging at all. Instead, she was knelt there on the lawn, tending to her garden giving me ample viewing down the deep cleft of her breasts where the fabric of the bra couldn't conceal. I nearly came in my pants then and there, and found it difficult to think of anything, let alone what I was planning on doing. All thoughts of my recent depression pushed aside, I was beside myself with excitement. I wanted to pull my cock out then and there and start stroking myself until I couldn't walk, and I wanted to go out there and stand next to her, apologize to her and let her know that I didn't mean to do that. I chose the latter of the two and made sure to readjust my young meat so that it wasn't too obvious. Then with my eyes averted and every part of my body thrumming with excitement, I stepped out into our front yard and slowly walked up in front of her. "Mom?" I quietly probed, seeing what kind of footing we were on. Not looking up, she continued to tug at weeds and move the dirt around until she seemed happy with the way it looked. "Yes?" I was stuck for a moment, not really sure what to say. Granted, I was also fighting so hard not to look down her shirt or stare at how hard her nipples were. "I'm sorry." "For what?" she shot back rather quickly. I wondered if she hadn't rehearsed this scenario in her head a dozen times since the other day, trying to find the best way to keep us together without giving me the wrong impression. "For... " I wanted to say for getting caught, for her finding out that I was stroking my cock while watching her. "For doing what I did." "And what did you do?" Again she had the reply ready, this time lifting her green eyes upwards to look at me. I couldn't read her face, couldn't tell if she was either disappointed or angry at me. I swallowed, feeling my throat and mouth suddenly dry. "I... I was playing with myself." "Is that all?" "No. I... I was playing with myself, thinking about you." And I nearly came then and there as I admitted it openly to my mother. The woman who had given birth to me, who was my singular sexual fantasy, was now aware that I had been sexually fantasizing about her. We were both silent for a long time. I fidgeted a bit, feeling my cock nearly bursting as I stood there unable to do anything by stare down her sports bra. Seeing her kneeling there, her body sweaty and barely covered by anything more opaque than a wet Kleenex, was driving me crazy. "What were you thinking about?" she finally asked. Her voice was small, held just above a whisper by something I could only guess was curiosity, perhaps even a little lust. The question, though, took me back. Hearing that from her mouth made me reflexively reach down to squeeze my swollen shaft through my pants. "About... about seeing you naked." She swallowed, I could see her throat moving with the changing play of shadows along her neck. "Did you want me to see you naked, too? Is that why you stood in the window, to show me your... your cock?" Jogging Vixen Ch. 02 "Did you want me to see you naked, too? Is that why you stood in the window, to show me your... your cock?" I swallowed, kneeling there in front of my son. Looking up at his young body and seeing a man looking back at me. Seeing a man who lusted for me, wanted me, desired to strip me naked and do things to me that had not been done since his father was with us. Excited was something I was feeling, and so very confused. This was my son, Jacob, eighteen years old standing just a foot away from me while I knelt there almost ready for him to show me that thick length of flesh. I was silently begging for it, demanding that he disgorge himself into my mouth and throat. I wanted it more than I had wanted anything in the whole of my life, and I couldn't take it. Not yet. Breathing hard, collecting myself in that moment, I finally looked up past the heavy lump within his pants to meet his eyes. The way they stared at me... "Go... go back inside, baby." My voice was hoarse with the heaviness of lust pouring fire through my body. I could see the disappointment in his eyes, see that he didn't want to go back inside. Jacob wanted his mommy, want me to worship him the way he worshipped me. It was just that I wasn't ready yet. Slowly, though he took a step back. Then another. A quiet retreat allowing him to continue staring at me as long as possible. Before he made it inside, I called out to him. "Jacob, baby, I'm going to go for a jog." Those words sealed my fate. Our routine, our ritual, was being established by my admission of how this started. I was letting him know that I wanted this taboo relationship, that I was allowing myself to become a willing, although silent, partner to our crime. When Jacob nearly ran inside, I felt a fluttering excitement dance across the insides of my belly. It wasn't love, but something carnal and instinctual. A mother's desire to care for her baby, no matter the consequences. Seeing my little Jacob that happy made me just as ecstatic and I couldn't think of why I would ever want anything less than that. Finally I rose up from the grass, brushing off my knees and feeling as if I were about to step into some other world. My turning point was behind me along a path I had taken a hundred times, transcending the usual mindlessness of it all into something beautifully wrong and deliciously sick. My legs tingled as I turned, glancing only a moment at our front window and seeing Jacob there, still clothed but openly stroking himself through his pants. I was so very tempted to forget my jog and go inside, instead. Tempted to take my boy's cock into my body and let him feel what a mother's love and lust could really be. It was the worst feeling I had ever known to separate myself from him as I began that slow walk to the road, yet I wanted to do this for him. I wanted him to see that Mommy wasn't jogging for herself, but for him. Hanging right to follow the sidewalk, I felt a wave of relief wash over me when I finally disappeared behind the trees and bushes. Glancing at the bushes though, it had made sense what I had heard only a few days ago. He had been there, Jacob that is. Knelt in those very bushes as close to me as he could get. I remember hearing a low moan and the strange sound of something wet and fleshy. I thought it maybe some animals having a meal, predator and prey completing their natural cycle. Maybe I was right in a way and never quite admitted to myself just how complete the cycle was becoming. I also knew just how wet I was at that moment, my thighs beginning to pump faster with the increase in my pace. My pussy was throbbing and tingling and sending me all the signals of hunger for that young shaft to be buried inside of it. I wanted it, too. Farther down the street and my head wasn't clearing of the images that Jacob had indelibly left there. Seeing him naked in the front window sent goosebumps running over my body and my nipples had never been so hard. Up ahead, I could see the end of our street at the intersection, knowing that normally I would continue across and onwards for several more minutes before making the return home. Today I couldn't stand to go that distance. Before making it to the intersection, I was crossing the street, making the turn to come back home. My shoes slap-slapped against the pavement with my tireless rhythm and I could almost believe that it sounded like Jacob pounding himself into me. Every jogged step was another clarified image of his naked body above me. Every moment bringing with it the torrid imaginings of what his cock would feel like slamming into my cunt. It was then that I realized just how far this had all gone. Thinking to myself with words like 'cunt' and 'cock'. I hadn't been that way before. I hadn't been a prude, but they weren't the kinds of words I used so readily. Yet now, I could think of nothing more exciting to describe it, even in my own thoughts. I wanted my son's cock inside of my cunt. Another minute and I saw the far corner of our house just beyond the trees. A few seconds later and I saw the windows. More importantly I saw Jacob, this time naked. His clothes were probably on the floor as he waited so patiently for me to make my return trip. I nearly tripped when I saw that thick length in his young hands, only able to make out the contours of shapes from my distance. It was enough though to make me moan out to him despite his not being able to hear it. I continued along the cul-de-sac, following the far sidewalk to make the long, circular path back to our home. Each second left me panting more from watching and knowing what he was doing than from the jog itself. Just being able to see him stroking himself left me breathless and I could only think of my baby boy. I could only think about how much I wanted to taste that young seed as it sprayed from his swollen tip. I even imagined what it would feel like, covering my tits and face in a filthy sheen of incestuous white across my skin. What was happening to me? 'You want to get fucked' I heard my inner-voice say. 'No! He's my son!' I replied desperately. 'And that's why you want his cock.' She responded. She... myself. My own desire was telling me the truth and I still had the bravado to deny it. I still thought I had a choice against my own desires and that I could keep this all under control. My truth was a simple one. I needed him. Looking up, I watched as Jacob was only a dozen feet away now, kept away from me by panes of glass. His hand was a blur along his length while his eyes strained to remain open and staring at me. All this time I had kept a slow, bouncing jog going, letting him watch the way my body moved within the thin comfort of my jogging pants and sports-bra, neither of which really did much to offer modesty. Perhaps that's why he started doing all of this. Maybe I had been the one to secretly lead him on and think that it was alright to want his mommy. I felt instantly dirty just admitting it to myself, which only made the aching in my pussy that little bit more unbearable. Finally I stopped jogging, the pretense of my hesitation had gone on long enough. I had to come to grips with this, realize that I couldn't deny it all any longer. This was my truth, my reality forged by actions I had always wanted, but could never bring myself to say out loud. I couldn't even say them in my own thoughts. But I wasn't ready yet. I wasn't ready to step inside that house and completely give myself over to lust. 'We have a better idea, don't we?' I heard the voice say again. 'We do?' I asked myself. 'Give the boy a little show, make him explode all over the window. We'd love that, wouldn't we?' I swallowed suddenly as the thrill of excitement nearly made my knees collapse beneath me. I could see the images in my head so vividly that I was left stunned and breathless. I could only imagine what Jacob thought as he watched my eyes flutter closed and my lips part. My fingers moved, then, towards waist of my yoga-pants. Every part of me was trembling as I grabbed hold of that nearly sheer fabric and began to push it downwards. I don't know why I started there, why I started with my pants instead of my sports bra, but I couldn't stop myself either. Hips wiggled back and forth with a slow, deliberate intimacy, letting my Jacob watch as I pushed them down over the flare of my hips and along toned thighs. I was struck by just how proud of my body I was, displaying it little by little to this young man in the window. Letting him watch his mommy taking her clothes off in the front yard for him and him alone. Again I looked up, seeing that his hand was pumping with quick, hard strokes down his cock, then gliding back upwards to the tip where he smeared that beautifully slick precum over his soft skin. It was transcendent, seeing my baby boy stroking himself like that. Watching the way his hand and body reacted when I stepped out of my pants and let them lay there on the grass. 'Panties next. Show him your slippery cunt.' The voice hissed in my thoughts like a wanton whore. I obeyed, hooking thumbs into the tiny thong I always enjoyed wearing on my jogs. It pressed up against my pussy and traced my ass in just the right way to help keep my mind wandering on those longer runs when I was by myself with only my thoughts. Again I took my time, peeling that damp fabric down over hips and away from the sodden skin of my slit. I felt every fiber pulling away from my skin, sending little panting moans to play past my tongue and dance out over lips. I could almost feel myself ready to cum then and there, right in front of my son. 'Not yet!' the voice screamed, and again I obeyed. 'You know what to do,' I heard the voice whisper. It made me shudder to think that a part of me could be so depraved, so filthy and slutty. It excited me more than I thought possible. Carefully I lowered myself down to the lawn, eyes never leaving the beautiful image of Jacob's hand wrapped around his thickly engorged cock. I watched with such intensity that I hurt from it, but could not bring myself to look anywhere else. It was becoming the center of my universe, the reality for which everything else was constructed around. Sucking in a slow breath to steady myself, I leaned back, spreading my knees to expose my hairless mound. Letting Jacob see his mommy's 'cunt', smooth and naked and just for him, I knew that I wasn't going to stop here. Even without that little voice in the back of my head feeding me perverse imaginings, I knew that this was what I wanted. Rest back on my hands, thighs spreading wider still, I gasped when I saw the reaction Jacob was having. His hips were thrusting forward rapidly, hand jerking so quick along that young shaft I thought he might hurt himself. Then the sudden spray of white against the window. Thick globs of semen splattering against the glass and dripping down towards the sill in streaks of clearing color. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, and left me shudder with a small, wanted orgasm that came upon me without warning. Gasping, sucking in deep breaths, I moaned out his name as my own hips responded to that release of energy. Watching as he spent himself for me and only me made me love him that much more. Before I realized it, my hand was between my legs and two long fingers buried themselves between the silken folds of my slit. I was a whore then and there, fingering myself openly for my beautiful Jacob. A wanton slut, just like the voice in my head, letting him watch mommy do the very same thing that he had been doing just a second ago. Every part of my pussy was aching and sensitive, rippling and squeezing around my fingers as the next release of tension struck and brought waves of spasms to play through my body. I lost myself into that feeling, into the crying out that filled my ears and the images of my baby's cum splashing against the window. It was all there, just for me, and I was soaking it all up with such abandonment that I was scared for my own sanity, let alone the fact that being scared excited me more. When my eyes finally opened, I saw him standing there, naked and above me. His shaft still hard and letting cum dribble down onto my face, the expression on his face was a mixture of worry and lust that sent my heart fluttering and beating faster against my chest. "Mommy?" he questioned, wondering if I was alright. In answer, I reached up, realizing only then that I was flat on my back, and wrapped my pussy-slick fingers around his cock to pull him down to my mouth. "Shhh, Jacob. Let mommy clean you." To Be Continued...