Your Mom Is Next!

Prologue:

The medical staff at Carlton Memorial Hospital was baffled by sudden increase of reported pregnancies. It was a real puzzling case, one that had the entire staff up in arms. There were many odd factors involved; factors that were just too uncanny to be considered anything but a normal coincidence.

Over fourteen pregnancies had been reported already, all within a two-week period, and there was more filtering in every day. Most were local women, but there was quite a number from neighboring towns as well. The whole area seemed to have been affected by a sudden rash of sexual activity. Local MD’s were swamped with women who claimed they thought they were pregnant. Tests confirmed that they indeed were although none knew how that was possible. They were all unexplainably hysteric and highly agitated.

The primary factor was that not one of the pregnant women was under the age of thirty-eight, the oldest being a whopping forty-seven. All women were well into their third month, give or take a few days. It was very strange that over a dozen women had all been impregnated within a week or two of each other. Many questions arose. Why was there a sudden increase in middle-age sexual activity? Why only middle-aged women? Five of the cases were women who were close to having their menstrual cycle cease forever and their pregnancies was a one in a million fluke; the forty-seven-year old hadn’t had it in two years and nobody could explain that one at all! It defied all laws of science.

The second puzzling factor---by many considered the primary and most alarming concern---was that none of the women were able to identify the father. Although all were married (with the exception of two: one was divorced and the other a widow) most claimed to have not been sexually active during quite some time. The widow claimed that she hadn’t been with a man since her husband’s death ten years ago. The divorced lady maintained that although she had been dating, she had not slept with any of her dates. The rest of them shyly admitted that their husbands had lost interest in them; or that their respective husbands were either shooting blanks or had a vasectomy. Either way: having become pregnant was unexplainable. It was extremely nerve racking and the women were all highly agitated. It was just unbelievable!

Medical tests were made. Nothing out of the ordinary was discovered except the fact that all had rather stretched vaginal walls. The women naturally had no idea. They all admitted to have experienced a slight pain the last few weeks---some even claimed having had difficulties walking for awhile---yet none could explain why. All were certainly confused and very shocked. The team of specialized psychologists who spent several hours with the pregnant women came up empty handed. The entire town was baffled. All except one man.

This is his story:

My name is Eric Braddock and I’m a twenty-two year-old college graduate. My friends and I had just graduated from Riley’s College and the ceremonies were scheduled there for tomorrow. The last term papers had been graded; the graduating students had been posted and the long stretch was finally over. Dad was over in Harmony Heights signing some business deals and wasn’t supposed to be back until late this evening and my mom was out grocery shopping. I had the house to myself. It was time to lie back and relax.

Which I was doing. I was home alone and lying on my bed. I had just taken a shower and was lying half-naked with my bathrobe partially wrapped around me, the cool breeze from the open window making the hairs on my chest flutter. I was deeply engrossed in one of my favorite books, a big leather-bound monstrosity the size of an atlas. It was so heavy that the bottom edge was digging a trench in my belly button. It was a gothic thing, the leather covers etched with embossed diagrams depicting medieval dioramas. It was a book that went through the history of witchcraft, demons and the like, and all things unexplainable.

I was studying the chapter on the gift of the evil eye, my favorite chapter. For weeks now I had been reading about this particular subject. According to the author, which by the way was by some 15th century dude called Edmund Jonas Lysterman, this was not a demonic gift but a highly psychological art form that could be learnt by anyone serious enough to believe in it. If practiced properly, it was supposed to be some form of hypnotic gaze that would make the recipient docile and subject to suggestion. All one had to do was to gaze deeply into the other person’s eyes and hold the gaze for five seconds or more without blinking. During the last three seconds of the gaze one was to form a mental image or phrase a mental sentence/order which the recipient was to act upon.

I had been working on this the last few weeks. Purely for kicks. I had practiced on the dog and the kid next door, all to no avail. Perhaps I didn’t understand it properly or perhaps my mental powers were too weak. Perhaps one needed a larger cranium or more brain cells to pull this kind of shit off. Edmund Jonas Lysterman maintained that it would only work during certain circumstances. Certain criteria had to be met. Which fucking criteria? Which circumstances? The asshole didn’t stipulate. All he said was that in order for the evil eye to take effect that one had to really focus. Channel your thoughts, it said. Concentrate and you will rejoice in its power.

Okay. Focus on what? With a frown I flipped through the pages and came across a picture of some white-robed priest or whatever bending over the body of a naked woman She was no spring chicken; that was for sure. She seemed old and flabby and I studied the caption with interest. “The deflowering of Mother Superior Abigail by the Bishop of Ravensport, ca 1477. Numerous rituals like these were often practiced by perverse priests and monks who claimed they were God’s messenger.” The woman was tied down, legs spread wide, apparently screaming like mad. Hmmm, kinky. I swept the robe apart and reached for my cock. It had already sprung to attention.

This was my favorite pastime ever since I discovered the pleasures it gave me. Although I’m fairly handsome, muscular and well over six feet, I was still a virgin, a fact I naturally kept to myself. I was extremely shy around girls. I never knew what to say or what to do. And I had such an aching boner, such a need to get laid! It would poke through my pants every time I was close to a chick so that I had to resort to walking around with my hands in my pockets to hide the bulge. It was embarrassing because throughout the school I was known as ‘Pocket Pool Eric’. Everybody thought I was jerking myself off! This made me even more unpopular with the girls.

If they only knew what I had in my pants. I’ve seen my friend’s peckers before and I knew that I was at least three times bigger! Had the kids at school known about my huge cock they would have labeled me ‘Elephant Man’ instead. I was so pissed off! I don’t know which I would have preferred. At any rate I wasn’t getting any and my only form of pleasure was jerking myself silly. Believe it or not: I had to use two hands!

So here I was jerking my engorged pole, the vision of the helpless and naked woman dancing through my mind. That was me in those white robes, my hands on her thighs, ready to plop my cock into her dripping cunt!

“Oh my God!”

My heart did a summersault. I turned my head and noticed my mother standing in the doorway. She clasped her hands to her face and the grocery bags she had been carrying fell to the floor with a dull thud. Shit! What was she doing here so early? I lay there as if frozen, my hands still around my huge cock, precum oozing down around the large mushroom-shaped head. We stared at each other with disbelief. We were both shocked, both of us unable to move.

My mother was the first to say something. She lowered one arm and pointed it at my rigid cock with wide eyes, her right hand still clasped to her mouth. “Oh, my Lord! Eric!”

I was momentarily surprised. I would have thought that she’d mention something about catching me masturbate and her unexpected outburst floored me. She seemed more mesmerized by the sight of my twelve-inch cock sticking up like a utility pole than the fact that I had my hands around it!

I stared at her. Then it hit me. The sudden revelation was not the least bit surprising and I suddenly knew what Edmund Jonas Lysterman meant by focusing one’s attention. Why hadn’t it occurred to me before? I’ve always had a thing for older women, admired their rounded and well-matured curves and the fact that they were experienced. Although young girls were probably fun, the saying went that women reached their sexual peak after forty. Oh, yeah, baby! Most of my pornographic collection consisted of mature women. Fucking an older broad had always been my secret desire! And mom definitely fell into that category. Should I focus on her?

My mom was an exceptionally beautiful woman and it hadn’t been the first time that I’d fantasized about her. I immediately realized that I could now actually do something about it. Would the evil eye work this time? Could I risk it?

“Mother.” I spoke softly and she turned her attention away from my cock to gaze at me. “Come here.” Our eyes locked and I gazed at her deeply. An image of her squatting naked on top of me formed in my mind and I drilled that thought into her. Did she pick up those thought waves? Oh, yes! She came slowly into the room as if in a trance and stopped at the side of the bed. She didn’t say anything but just stood there, her eyes fixed on mine. She didn’t breathe; she didn’t flinch a muscle. She just stood there like a statue. Shit! It had worked! I could hardly contain myself.

My eyes roamed over her body. I liked what I saw. I have always admired her feminine form and her classical Irish beauty, but now it was the first time that I actually studied her profile with more than just a fleeting glance. I had myself a long, studious look.

Lydia Braddock was forty years old yet had the body of a teenager. She was very short, about five-foot-two, slim and delicate, the slender body lean and firm. The only true indication of her real age was the slightly flared hips and the minute wrinkles on her slender hands and the crow’s feet at the edge of her eyes. She had a pretty face, cute and baby-like; fair skin and long, strawberry blond hair that fell past her shoulders like a veil. It was soft and silky smooth, straight, with only the ends curling slightly. She had it brushed back over her ears with one of those U-shaped doodads (spangle?) so that her earrings were visible, the light bangs dancing across her forehead. Her emerald eyes sparkled. Her rosy lips shone. No doubt about it---my mother was a very desirable and sexy woman.

But her most endearing features were that terrific set of 32 or 34 double-D cups, slim and torpedo-shaped teats that were amazingly sag-free. I’d seen her in a loose-fitting bikini and several low-cut gowns and the view of her firm tits heaving forwards and outwards with barely a droop had been out of this world. No support under those gowns, no bras or padded-liners----and yet her breasts did not hang and show a sagging cleavage. They just drilled forward like avocadoes. They shook and wobbled a lot, especially in that string-bikini top for they were full and heavy and subject to a rolling motion. Undoubtedly my mother had the stiffest boobs for a woman her age, tits that could make a man drool and slobber with desire. Oh, she was such a sex kitten! She had such a slim, lithe and sylph-like body that made those full and stiff-looking tits exceptionally noticeable.

She was wearing a dark blue wrap-around skirt slit high at the side so that a lot of her slim legs were visible. She seemed taller than usual, but that was only because she was wearing two-inch, white high-heeled slippers. She was also wearing a stretch elastic long-sleeved top that clung to her slim body like a second skin. It was baby blue in color and so thin and transparent that I could easily make out the rounded cups of a navy blue push-up bra and the dark cleavage between her tits shimmering through the thin and fine mesh. What a sight!

She didn’t dress like a forty-year-old, never did, and was always decked-out like a twenty-year old. I don’t know if she wanted to hide her true age or if she simply liked the younger fashion trends. Whatever the case she always looked delicious. She was simply a woman who could be proud of her body and I suppose she went to lengths to show it off. The only man who had any complaints was my father who often voiced his dislike at his wife’s revealing clothes. Any man married to a beautiful woman like my mom would probably feel the same way. No man wants his wife to openly flaunt her wares!

It was not the first time I stared at my mother with such desire. For years her slim, provocative body with those perky knockers had haunted my dreams at night. During her teens she must have driven the guys mad. And now, a few months over forty, she was still turning men’s heads! That was the odd thing about her. She dressed provocatively, sometimes a little too revealing, but she was not a tease and not in the least promiscuous. She was polite, did not use filthy language and blushed a lot when others did. She was not a prude but a gentle, timid and very feminine woman was deeply religious and a habitual church-goer. One might say that her choice in wardrobe was a very strong contrast to her overall demeanor.

I don’t know if my father kept her sexually satisfied. It is not a subject that a son questions his parents about. But I had my doubts. Dad was away a lot and I guess she was lonely. When we had parties she’d be flitting about the guests, stopping to pat your arm or stroke your hand while idle gossip was exchanged. She especially got off on leaning in close to the male guests, giggling and blushing like a schoolgirl and blinking at them through her fawn-like eyes, eyelashes fluttering. In a subliminal way she was sending off signals that men picked up on. She wasn’t actually flirting: it was just her way. There wasn’t one man who appeared bothered by her fawning attitude. They just loved it! Oh, yes---I knew the effect she had on men. She had a hell of an effect on me!

I spread apart my bathrobe and revealed myself fully. My mother lowered her eyes until they were locked on my swollen pecker. She was still as if in a trance and lowered her body forward a bit to stare closer at my manhood. At the sight of her glorious tits poking through that thin top and that deep cleavage she presented me with my cock shot straight up. It probably grew another inch too, for a sudden pain shot through me as my cock stiffened. Her tits were tightly packed together by the push-up job, the cleavage long and dark. Man, I could hardly wait to slam my hands around those beauties!

She straightened then and started to unhitch the wrap-around skirt. Man, this evil eye shit really worked! Here she was, stripping in front of me! I stared at her with fascination as she unraveled the loose skirt, exposing more and more of her shapely legs. She peeled it off and wordlessly let it drop to the floor behind her. She was a bit broad in the beam, which only accentuated her slim waist and targeted the eyes to the junction between her thighs. My eyes were no exception----I just stared at her mound with wide eyes.

She was wearing a navy blue bikini panty, slightly laced at the front and sheer at the sides. A nice, thick lump poked through her crotch and I licked my lips at the sight of that bushy snatch. The lace panty was stretched taut across her broad hips. It was also obvious that it matched the bra in style and color. She knew how to dress, that was for sure.

She then grabbed the stretch top that clung to her waist and slowly hitched it up and over her large breasts, exposing the slightly laced cups of the dark blue push-up bra. She struggled a bit to peel the tight top over her head; tug and tore at it so that her tits shook up and down. I gasped at the sight of her meaty tits practically heaving out of the bra’s cups as she yanked at the stretch top. My cock throbbed! She finally managed to peel it off, flung it aside and shook loose her auburn tresses. Oh, what a woman!

Again, wordlessly, she squatted on her heels at the end of the bed, took my cock in both hands, tilted it towards her and lowered her head. She began to lick it all over. It was the first time another human had touched me there and I almost lost a load right there! And she wasn’t only licking. I watched with amazement as she opened her small mouth wide to accept the huge mushroom-shaped head. And then her mouth closed around it. I groaned with pleasure as her moist lips slithered across the head of my cock. She was trying to get it in her and was obviously having a hard time of it. My cock was well over twelve inches long and two inches thick. Her face was contorted around the huge, bulbous head, her rosy lips spread real wide, and it seemed that her jaw would snap. But she hitched herself up a bit and pushed and forced her head down on it more and more until the huge head disappeared inside her. Her teeth rasped against the tender flesh and I groaned. Man, what a sensation. She only had the head inside her and there was still ten inches of cock sticking up! How much could she take, I wondered? She already seemed to be completely filled!

I lay there totally in awe. Here, of all women, was my mother with her pretty mouth wrapped around the head of my cock. For a fleeting moment I was overcome with guilt and shame, but as soon as her tongue slid over the tip of my head the feelings quickly subsided. Oh, tingles went down my back as she licked and jabbed my cock with the tip of her tongue. She took t out of her mouth and began to lick the swollen head, moistening it and the shaft underneath it with her saliva. I especially loved the way her tongue slid around the crown of my cock and I groaned with pleasure. This was a hundred times better than jerking off! She spent several minutes licking and lapping at my throbbing shaft, moistening it for easier penetration. I groaned and she hungrily licked off the pre cum that was oozing out of my fat head. Slivers of the opaque cum swung from it and her mouth like spider webs and she shook her head to fling it off. Her small tongue darted in and out of her rosy lips as she lapped at the throbbing head of my cock.

And then she opened her mouth wide again and engulfed my cock deep inside her. My eyes widened with surprise as she fed more and more of my twelve-inch cock deep into the cavity of her hot mouth. Oh, what a sensation! Inch by inch disappeared inside her until she had swallowed at least eight inches of it. Her entire face was oddly contorted; the cheeks billowing out and her eyes popping out of their sockets. She was such a tiny thing yet had fed a huge portion of my cock deep down her throat. It was unbelievable. I could feel the head of my cock slithering down her narrow esophagus, spreading it wide so that the flesh of her neck bulged out. She looked like a snake that was trying to worm a rodent down its sinewy throat. I wondered how she was able to breathe!

She knew what she was doing. She lifted her head off and took in a lung full of air. A loud gasping sound echoed through the room. She grabbed my cock again and spread her mouth wide and slipped the huge head inside her mouth again. And then she began to bob her head up and down, sliding her wet and steamy mouth along three-quarters of my twelve-inch pole. I closed my eyes and groaned deeply as she sucked me off. Her long, silky strawberry blond hair fell across my lower abdomen and the sight of her mouth going up and down on my cock was hidden from view. All I saw was the reddish blond head madly bouncing up and down, the hair flouncing about her frail shoulders.