Story till Now: Riley Fox and his mother Roxanne Fox have moved from New York City to a small southern town called Wet Valley. On their first day they met their neighbor, Dante, a handsome, rugged man, and the object of both Riley's and Roxanne's desire. That night, Riley witnesses Dante having intense sex with an unnamed Indian woman, and has an unusual psychic experience in which a disembodied voice, presumably Dante's, converses with him.
#####
Riley Fox: an attractive, bisexual eighteen year old. A little Goth, a little Emo, and a total pervert. He is very experienced sexually and resents moving away from New York.
Roxanne Fox: Riley's ex-pornstar mother, Rox the Fox. Forty years old, but said to look like she is still in her twenties. Nice curves, pixie-face, short dirty blonde hair.
Dante???: the Foxes' new neighbor, a ruggedly handsome man.
#####
The Sex-Life of a Teenage Psychic: Chapter 2
My body was sore with sexual contentment. The long night of masturbation and voyeurism had left me with a feeling of absolute satisfaction, and the humid air hung on me like a blanket. Last night's events now felt like a dream. Dante, the Indian woman, the ghostly tingling in my body, and the sexy voice. It must have been a dream, nothing so perfect could be real.
A rustling sound stirred me from my peaceful rest. My room was bright with the morning sun and I stretched out like a lazy lion, feeling my muscles pop back into movement. My cock was stiff and pointing to my belly button. I lazily stroked it a few times, enjoying the feeling of the morning-wood, and I considered rubbing another one out. There was nothing better than a good morning orgasm.
"Are you really going to masturbate again?"
I looked up. My mother was standing in the open doorway, holding a broom in one hand. She was dressed in nothing by a loose jersey that had belonged to one of her ex-boyfriends and a pair of boy-cut underpants. Her short dirty blonde hair was tied back with a bandanna.
She was looking right at my ten inch cock.
"M-mom . . . MOM!!!"
I rolled off the mattress and scrambled desperately for a blanket or something to cover myself with, but there was absolutely nothing at hand. I hadn't unpacked my linens yet and I had slept naked. I had nothing to cover my stiff erection with and my hands weren't big enough to cover it all.
"Mom! Get out! Get . . . the . . . fuck . . . out!"
She got angry. "Excuse me, mister? You can't talk to me like that."
"Mom! I need . . . I need my fucking privacy! Shit!"
"Why? So you can masturbate again? Sweetie, I know what dried semen looks like. You're covered in it. You look like one of those girls after a gang-bang. I never did those movies, but I had friends who did."
"Oh-my-fucking-god! Can we not talk about your career in porn?" I tried covering my cock, but my hands could only cup my large strawberry-sized testicles. The ten inch shaft still pointed straight up, waiting for its morning wanking. "Leave me alone!"
My mother kept looking down at me, frowning intensely. "You want me to leave? Okay. I'm going to go over to Dante's for a swim, because he was so nice to offer, and your ass is going to clean the gutters. Whoever owned this house last apparently neglected them. The ladder is in the garage.
"Fine! Fuck! Get out!"
She finally left, but not before taking a long, good look at my raging boner. She smirked a little before disappearing. The fucking bitch. Why was she doing this to me? She always came in at the worst moments and just stood there. I remember when she had caught me sucking my math tutor's cock a few months ago. She had just stood there laughing. What kind of reaction for a mother is that?
Absentmindedly, I began stroking my cock again. My erection wasn't going anywhere until I drained it, and I didn't want to clean the gutters with ten inches of dick straining against my shorts. I stroked it quick, remembering the beautiful sight I had gotten last night of Dante fucking that Indian woman he had over. I remembered his muscles, his smile, his thrusts, and his giant cock. I remembered her chocolate nipples, her toned stomach, her perfect ass, and her lactating breasts. Then, reluctantly, I imagined my mother changing into her swimsuit. She was going over there right now, right to the spot I watched Dante get a blowjob from that naked milf. I imagined my mother in the Indian woman's place. I imagined her sucking Dante's cock. I imagined her getting fucked blind in his bedroom. I imagined her getting coated with his copious amounts of thick cum.
I came. All over myself, I came.
#####
It took me forever to get out of the shower. Washing off all of the dried semen coating my chest and face proved to be quite a chore. The hot water filled the bathroom with the smell of my cum, and my head swam with its thick aroma. I hadn't cummed that much in a single night for quite a while. I was very impressed with myself.
When I got out of the shower I walked down the hall with a towel tied around my waste that was only wide enough to barely cover my swinging genitals. It was the only thing I wore as I searched through the unpacked boxes looking for my work clothes. I heard footsteps and turned around to see my mother waking towards me. She was wearing the skimpiest, most revealing, sluttiest pink thong bikini I had ever seen.
"What . . . what the fuck is that?" I asked, pointing to the tiny little triangles that held back her firm breasts. I could see the edges of her nipples around the little pink triangles.
"What? This?" she asked, looking cutely down at herself. "It's called a bikini sweetie. You really should go swimming more often."
I was furious, not just because my mother was so fucking clueless, but also because she was making my dick hard again. I felt it lifting the towel around my legs. "That is not a bikini! That is a piece of floss! Why are you wearing it?"
"Well, yesterday, when Dante was offering his pool to me he asked what kind of swimsuits I wore. I remember . . . I remember . . ." My mother's pixie face drifted off, as if trying to remember something from a long time ago. ". . . I think I was telling him how sexy I used to dress, back when you were young, but that I didn't do that anymore. He said . . . he said I should start dressing again. Especially when he . . . when he was around."
I was confused. What the fuck was she talking about? Why would she tolerate a complete stranger saying something like that to her?
"Mom . . . please go put something less revealing on."