Confessions Of A Motherfucker Ch 02

[Author's Note: I write this at about 6:00 in the morning. When I get up, I tend to check Literotica to see if something has been published and see if there are any comments on my work. I enjoy them. I was surprised when I found page after page of notifications that somebody had added this story to their "favorites." Evidently, I struck a nerve with this one so I'll be following up to see how things work out between David and his mother. Hell, maybe we'll even learn her name but, well, "Mom" seems right, when you get down to it, don't you think? So let's be a fly on the wall for a while, shall we, Gentle Reader? And please, feel free to leave a comment or even contact me. I'm always interested in knowing how I struck those nerves or created an image that pleased. And I'm always looking for story ideas. Anyway, I think David's mother is waking up now.]

Interlude

As hangovers go, this one was pretty damn epic. I may be a drunk, well, okay, I AM a drunk, but I'm a highly functioning drunk and don't have blackouts. That's a promise I made to myself long ago and have stuck to. If my drinking gets to be so much that I have missing memories, well, I'll dry out. But that hasn't happened so far and, well, I like what alcohol does for me so I have no intention of quitting.

So I lay there, eyes still closed, head pounding, room doing that slow spin of a morning after, and thought.

"Oh, Marilouise, you have surely fucked up this time" was my first clear thought as I remembered last night.

My date had turned out to be an absolute jerk. Christ, it was our first date, hell, our first dance, and already his hands were on my ass. When I told him to stop it he got pissy and called me a tight-ass bitch which made me laugh in his face. I mean, hell, I'm the one that old joke had been written for. You know the one - if she had so many dicks sticking out of her as she's had stuck into her she'd look like a porcupine.

What can I say? I like sex. Of course, that's why I have a son only 15 years my junior, but there it is. I like sex. Always have and I certainly hope, always will.

Anyway, George, my once and never date, tried to start a fight so I just said, "fuck this," and hopped into my car and went to a club I frequent. There weren't any interesting men there and I wound up in a stupid game of "Never Have I Ever," which, for a barfly like me, is never a good idea because I wound up drinking at practically every "Never Have I Ever" offering. I got to pass on the "Never have I ever been in a girls' only orgy," and was surprised by three of my acquaintances who giggled and tossed down their shots. I did drink at NHIE engaged in a threesome, NHIE had more than two men on one night, and NHIE been involved in a bukkake party, well, you get the picture.

But there were no interesting males so I just accepted that it would be BOB and me for the night, hopped into my car, and went home.

I guess I had lost more rounds in the NHIE game than I thought because about halfway home I realized that I was WAY too drunk to be driving. I got off of the main streets and slowly made my way home in the over-cautions way of a seriously drunk driver. I stopped completely at every stop sign, carefully looked both ways before moving, stayed as close to two miles per hour under the speed limit, and concentrated on not wandering across my lane. I guess I was successful because I made it, unarrested and unwrecked.

Inside I made myself a screwdriver, turned on the TV, and watched the news for a while as I wound down from the nerves of driving.

As happens sometimes, I suddenly realized I had to pee.

In the bathroom, my slacks and panties around my knees I peed and in the post-relief relaxation drifted into a doze. I guess I had more to drink than I realized because I suddenly snapped awake knowing I was going to be sick.

I managed to get off the seat and turned around. I flushed quickly, God, I didn't need piss splashing along with what was coming.

And it came with a vengeance.

I was surprised I had anything left to throw up, but I managed. I thought, at one point, I shit myself I threw up so hard, but later I found that I had avoided that indignity at least.

After a bout of dry heaves that wouldn't seem to end, I was too exhausted to move. My belly muscles ached and felt on the verge of cramping. My lower back muscles DID cramp, making me cry out and bend my back sharply to ease the pressure and the pain. When that passed I just hung there, my cheek against the cool porcelain.

It felt good.

I could feel the world slipping away and my last thought was, "Well, fuck, Marylouise, now you know what rock bottom is. Passing out with your face in the toilet has to be about it."

But I didn't try to get up.

Hell, the cool porcelain felt good on my cheek.

It actually felt kind of good to let myself pass out.

I was dreaming. It was a cold day and I was running and I was afraid although I didn't know what I was afraid of. I just knew that if I got caught I'd get hurt.

Suddenly, in the way of dreams, it was raining. I felt the raindrops spatter against my face. I was barefoot and running free, running like I had when I ran the 440 in high school, comfortable, breathing easy, legs pumping, arm swinging properly.

"Come on, Sluterella," I heard my son's voice, "Let's get you cleaned up."

Interlude

Finis

I woke, and it was one of those cases when I was asleep and then I was awake. There was no slow awakening. I was just awake.

And I was aware.

I remembered it all.

I got hard.

I rolled up onto my side and there she was.

" So, David," I thought, "now you're a motherfucker. What next?"

Which, of course, was a stupid question to ask myself. I was hard and she was there and she might say "no" after this but for now, well, it was a stupid question.

I felt that sudden rush, deep in my belly as she opened her eyes and met mine, and my adrenal glands squeezed flooding my system with adrenaline and triggering that fight or flight reflex that saved so many of my million times great grandparents as they started down from the trees into the waiting jaws of the fully evolved apex predators. For them, you ran, you fought, or you became leopard lunch.

So I felt that sudden rush and froze like a mouse seeing the snake.

She smiled.

"Sluterella?" she said.

And I knew, far below the level of thinking, that my life had changed.

She looked exactly like what she was, a drunk after a hard night. Her hair was a rat's nest. Her face, without makeup, showed every year in the lines around her eyes and mouth. Her nose had been running and there was a crust on her upper lip and around her nostrils. She had been drooling and a wet line ran from the corner of her mouth.

"Well," I said, running my fingers into the rat's nest on her head and unable to pull them through, "You are lookin' a little rough."

"And you took advantage, didn't you?" she asked, looking at me through squinted eyes.

"Fuck me, DAVID, FUCK MEEEEEeeeeeee," I said, grinning, mimicking her voice from last night.

"Oh, God," she said, "David," but she ran down then.

I got my hands free from the rat's nest and brushed her cheek.

"Are you sorry?" I asked.

She held my eyes then for a very long ten count.

"Are you?" she asked.

I did NOT hesitate.

"No. Not a bit. Not an iota," I said.

And she was still for another long ten count, holding my eyes with hers.

I waited, wondering how this would play out, and damn sure knowing how I wanted it to.

She kissed me then. This was no mother-son peck on the lips. This was a true kiss. This was a man-woman kiss. And she knew WAY more about kissing than the girls I dated.

She held me in that kiss while she grabbed me and with the skill of a woman who truly enjoys sex, rolled onto her back holding, me in that embrace, and rocked her hips in just the right way to accept me into her body.

Once we were joined she pushed me up with strong arms until there was enough separation between us to focus on my eyes.

"No, Honey," she said, "I'm not sorry."

"Good," I said and this time I initiated the kiss albeit not with as much skill as she had.

This was better than last night had been. She was more here, more with me, more in the now to try to sound kind of poetic about it.

The thing was, from my inexperienced point of view, this was "adult" sex, not the kids experimenting I had been involved with. Oh, I was registered with Selective Service and my driver's license, the one with my real name on it, proved I was 18. The other one proved I was 22.

But this was different from my explorations with Bonnie who, as it turned out, I would never date again. This was adult sex. This was a woman who knew what she wanted and enjoyed getting it.

And it was a woman with, as Willie Nelson and Merle Haggard put it in a song, "breath as hard as kerosene."

Her scents were a woman's scents, not girls. The feeling of me inside of her was being with a woman, loose or tight depending on what she did with her muscles.

And the fit, no, the MATCH was perfect. I could feel it.

"Davey," she breathed, that harsh breath reminding me that this was no girl still chewing a pack of

Juicy Fruit

every day, "do you feel it?"

I chuckled and kissed her, not just smelling her breath but somehow tasting the vodka she drank in prodigious amounts.

"What?" I asked although I thought I knew what she had in mind.

"Davey," she said, and her hips stopped moving, and I thought this must be what sex would be like on LSD or peyote or something at made the world surreal as she kept talking, having a damn conversation with me inside of her, "I'm no virgin," she went on, almost casually, "I've had big men and small men, fast men and men who could make it linger," she drew a deep breath then and squeezed on me, "but with you, we don't just fit," she drew a deep breath, "we 'match.' Do you feel it?"

I smiled.

"Yes," I said, "I feel it but, well, I didn't realize that it was odd."

"Oh, Davey," she said as she wrapped her legs around me, pulling her knees up so her heels could dig into my ass, spurring me like a horse, "It's so far beyond odd you can't see odd from here. It's unique."

She giggled, and said, "It is, Honey, oh, it is."

And her hips started bucking.

"Come on, Honey," she said, "Give your old mom a ride."

I didn't move. I chuckled.

"Old mom?" I asked.

She giggled.

"Well, give your mom a ride," she said.

I tried to be gentle, I swear I did. But those hips got me and I started thrusting harder.

That seemed to trigger something in her and she started again, almost a chant, "Fuck me, David, fuck me, David, harder, Baby, fuck me, David, fuck me..."

And I did. As I had triggered her she triggered me and I was thrusting harder, our bodies now meeting with an audible slapping sound and a distinct splashing sound.

When I felt her climax it was SO wet that I thought, at first, she had lost her bladder control the way she soaked my balls and my thighs. Her heels dug into my ass, her back arched, and I could feel the rigidity of her body.

I held still then, my back bent, as deep into her as I possibly could be.

She suddenly took in a great whooping breath, like a swimmer underwater for too long.

"Stay still, Baby," she said, her voice so breathy it was barely audible, "Stay inside of me."

So I stayed still, my back arched, my hips pushing forward, my erection as deep into her as I could get.

"Okay, Baby," she said, "Control now. Just hold still for a while."

I did.

"Are you under control?" she asked after a while. Minutes? Hours? I dunno.

"Yes," I said.

Her grin was feral. Insane. Nuts.

"Then fuck me," she said and her hips started thrusting again.

I pulled out and slammed into her as hard as I could.

She grunted and said, "AGAIN!"

And that is how I fucked my mother for the second time. I would pull out until just my

glans

was still inside her, barely parting her labia, and then slam into her as hard as I could, grunting with the effort.

And with each of those hard, almost brutal thrusts, she would cry out. Sometimes it would be a simple, "AGAIN!" Sometimes she would encourage me with, "FUCK ME!" Sometimes it was just a one-word affirmation, "YESSSSS!"

I don't know how long that went on. Longer than I would have thought possible, I

do

know that.

But in the end, nature would not be denied.

My ejaculation was so perfect it was painful. I could feel my urethra expanding with the force. My back arched in that position nature demanded. My semen, my seed, the sperm that as far as evolution was concerned was the sole reason for my existence, shot out, deep into her, seeking the egg that would ensure the next generation of the race would be created.

I couldn't breathe. My release was so complete I was instantly spent. My time on the practice field, a thousand suicides, couldn't have left me any emptier.

I couldn't understand how she could talk. Hell, I could barely breathe. But she was talking. And it was getting to me.

"Yes, God, yes. Oh, Davey, yes. Oh, Jesus, fuck, Christ, yes," she was saying.

"This can't be wrong, this is too good, oh, Davey, Jesus, yes," well, she was kind of babbling.

I hadn't softened yet and I said, "I love you, Mom."

And she came again, soaking me as she sprayed her release.

"And I love you, Honey," she said.

In a sudden burst of energy, she rolled us over so she was on top, looking down at me.

"This isn't wrong, is it?" she asked.

"No, Mom, this isn't wrong," I said.

She looked down at me, holding that position, her arms extended, breathing hard, looking, if I'm being honest, pretty fucking crazy right then.

"I'll try," she said.

"Try?" I asked, struggling to think, and trying to hold my body so I stayed inside of her.

She kissed me. This was a kiss that was a strange mixture. There was still passion in the kiss, but there was tenderness too, as her immediate need was met.

And my mind, the weird place that it is, had a thought against which all other

non sequiturs

are measured and most fall short.

"I love the feeling of her boobs against my chest," I thought

.

"I'll try to be monogamous," she said, the first time I ever heard that word spoken.

"Wanna go steady, then?" I asked.

She giggled, kissed me again, and said, "Yes, I'll wear your ring around my neck."

When she giggled the movement on her body, combined with nature's action as I softened in the afterglow, pushed me out.

She made a little whimpering sound and started to roll off, but I caught her.

"Let me have your weight," I said, nuzzling her neck.

"Oh my," she said, giggling again but relaxing.

And that is how my second time fucking my mother ended, with her on top, relaxing, humming very softly, as my hands slowly roamed, caressing her back from her shoulders to her ass and back.