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.
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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.
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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.
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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."
My mother shook her head, as if coming back to her senses from a drunken binge, but she ignored me. She smiled, and she grabbed the towel from around my waist, leaving me totally naked. My hardening cock flopped up for attention. I was standing totally nude in the living room, completely exposed in front of the house's largest windows. The whole neighborhood could see my monster cock. There was middle-aged woman watering her lawn across the street, and a group of teenage girls rolled by on their bicycles. If any of them turned to my house for even a moment they would get a big eyeful of my tight ass and thickening erection.
"Mom! What the fuck!"
"I need a towel for the pool. Thanks sweetie."
My mother kissed me on the cheek, her surprisingly perky breasts squishing against my chest. My cock slapped against her stomach. She turned around and marched out the back, her round ass rolling with every step.
I needed to jerk off again.
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Standing on the roof, reaching down into the gutters to pull out the thick soup of dead leaves, I was feeling very bothered. I was dripping with sweat, my joints ached, I was tired, and the entire time I was cleaning the gutters I had to watch my mother swimming back and forth in my neighbor's pool, wearing nothing more than her tiny pink thong and bikini top. With every lap I could see her round ass floating above the surface, or as she did her back-strokes I could see her breasts cutting through the water.
Luckily Dante wasn't there. I had figured that the only reason he had offered to let my mother swim in his pool was so he could gawk at her. The only thing men wanted my mother for was sex, as all of her past relationships had proven, and yet she would still fall head-first for any douche-bag who showed the slightest interest in her. I didn't want that same thing to happen with Dante, especially after what I had seen him do to that Indian woman. He had destroyed her. I could only imagine what he would do to my mother, a former pornstar.
My cock started to get hard again.
And just then, as if summoned by my dirty thoughts, Dante emerged from the house.
"Roxy!" he called to my mother.
Roxy? Roxy? He was already calling my mother Roxy? Not Roxanne, or Ms. Fox? That asshole.
I couldn't hear the conversation that followed, but my mother swam to the pool's edge with a big, bright smile on her face. Dante was only wearing a pair of ripped jeans that exposed his knees and even little patches of his muscular ass. His back was rippling with power, and his arms looked strong enough to lift my mother right up out of the water and carry her inside to his sex-den. He and my mother yammered about something for a minute, and then he offered her his hand. She took it, and he pulled her out of the pool.
She came up like a mermaid in an erotic dream, waterfalls fell down her pornographic body, and her breasts bounced when he set her down. She stood very close to him, so close that her breasts touched his hard chest, and they spoke a little more. He led her over to one of his pool chairs. She got down on her stomach, arching her back slowly as she descended, offering him a good, long look at her firm buttocks.
Dante had a bottle of sunscreen, and he sprayed a large load into his hand. My mother wiggled in anticipation as he lathered his hands. I could actually hear my mother moan when his hands came down, right onto the round globes of her ass.
I darted down the ladder and went around the fence to his backyard. By the time I got close to where he was molesting my mother he already had her thong peeled down her ass, and her top was untied. His hands were roaming over her body like a rapist's. Rubbing, groping, pinching, pulling, and my mother could not sit still even a little. She writhed and moaned with every touch.
