By Tug Coxwell
A continuation of a short story kicking around in my head. It's fiction, not true, and not real. All characters are 18 or older. If incest offends you, you probably shouldn't read this story. All rights reserved.
*
Tim returned to school later that Sunday, and Caitlyn returned to work on Monday.
"Quite a performance on Saturday," Steve Ridgemont commented when Caitlyn waltzed through his office door to drop off a stack of reports for the month's sales activities. "I didn't think you had that in you."
Dressed impeccably as usual in her fashionable but professional forest green pleated skirt and black button-down blouse, the chastened and beautiful red-headed account executive paused tensely to think about her response.
'I should read that sonofabitch the riot act for making me blow my son,' immediately raced through her mind.
Caitlyn was still under the misguided belief the text messages directing her to give Tim a birthday blowjob to celebrate his twenty-one years were from her perverted boss. Instead, the intelligent woman wisely thought better of it.
"Yes, well, you made me what I am today," Caitlyn snarked with a tone of attitude. "I had it in my alright."
The statuesque college graduate was pleased with her clever double entendre about her successful career, while at the same time alluding to her degrading descent as an incestuous cocksucking mother.
"If you mean a 'son-sucking' slut," he answered viciously, taking up the challenge with an open disparagement of his own, "apparently I've been more successful than I realized."
It was a hard cut at the proud mother considering she'd had no choice, and had only taken Tim's substantial cock into her mouth at what she believed was her debauched employer's shameful demand. Still, Caitlyn held back on a full-fledged verbal harangue, not wanting to antagonize her scheming boss further.
As with his alluring but disgraced sex toy, Steve was completely ignorant of Tim's hijacking of his phone messages, and in doing so, of Tim's manipulation of his own mother.
Caitlyn and her captor were unknowingly talking past each other, with each thinking the other had instigated the demented act of the curvaceous mother on her knees sucking off her youthful son. Their off-target conversation did nothing to change that perception, and they remained none the wiser to Tim's calculating deception.
The week passed rather uneventfully as it turned out. Caitlyn was only asked to 'entertain' one prospective client on her back in the comfort of the large leather sofa in Steve's office over a long Thursday afternoon.
"Unnh...ugh...yeah baby," Art Mortenson, the balding, overweight, 60-something president of Go For It Sporting Goods huffed and grunted on top of a topless and uninterested Caitlyn O'Donnell until he poured his feeble semen into her warm cunt.
"Oh, Mr. Mortenson, so big...uhh...so hard," Caitlyn lied to convince the old man of his impressive virility, while feigning an orgasm as she loathingly accepted his foul seed into her precious snatch.
"Shit, I love...whew...fucking married women," Art crowed between recovering breaths while laying on top of Caitlyn and toying with her huge, unrestrained boobs. "They're so much more interesting than single girls, especially wives with tits like Mrs. O'Donnell here."
"Deal then?" Steve asked indiscreetly from his desk where he'd avidly watched the entire performance.
"Damn right," the sated new customer agreed. "So long as Mrs. O'Donnell is my account executive, with frequent visits to my company headquarters, of course."
"Done," Steve easily consented to the sordid arrangement, unconcerned that he'd just committed Caitlyn to regular bouts with Art Mortenson between her long, spread legs.
'Great,' Caitlyn bemoaned with exasperation.
The dishonored wife and mother was only able to assuage herself with Steve's promise of substantial residual commissions from the Go For It account...and his continued promise to keep her company malfeasance a secret, and thus keep her out of prison.
*****************************
For his part, Tim tried to focus on his studies all week, but couldn't. He was obsessively preoccupied with getting home again for the weekend, thinking only of his wonderful mother's luscious lips encircling his rigid cock.
The problem was Tim had a date scheduled on Saturday night with Linda Tompkins, one of the lovelier coeds at the school, and certainly the best-looking chick in the IT department. He was frustrated, having dated Linda three times and getting nowhere with the uptight girl.
'I think she just wants me to help her with her coursework,' he finally decided, admitting to himself what he feared from the beginning. 'She just wants me for my brain.'
Tim weighed the prospects of getting to feel-up Linda's bountifully large breasts, even over her clothes, and decided the promise of a blowjob from his caring and equally buxom mother was the better option.
"Fuck Linda Tompkins," he bemoaned with final determination. "I'll never get to, that's for certain."
"Mom's a sure thing," he grinned, drawing the phrase from a movie he saw years ago.
A moment later his phone was in his hand, typing away.
'Mom?' Tim texted with his course of action decided. 'Coming home this weekend'
Caitlyn didn't answer immediately, so he followed with a brief addendum to cement his intent.
'Deal still hold?'
Tim's meaning was clear, but another full minute lapsed before his mom finally buzzed back.
'Yes' her brief reply finally was received, followed by a hesitant but more reassuring message.
'Deal's on' Caitlyn wrote warily. 'As promised'
'Looking forward to it' Tim finished gleefully.
'Me? Or...it?' his irascible mother typed in a jaded follow-up.
'You...and it' Tim irreverently texted back, picking up her skepticism over the ether and replying in kind.
'See you Saturday' Caitlyn ended, then added a cynical snipe as the denouement.
'Your son-loving mother'
*****************************
Tim arrived home late again, finding his dad in bed and his mother asleep on the couch with a half-full glass of wine resting on the oak end-table.
'Time for bed,' the hopeful young man thought, admiring Caitlyn's sleeping form still dressed in the loose pajamas she wore to relax after a long week.
He briefly considered copping a feel of his passed-out mother's big left tit, assuming it was uncovered by a stiff bra under her top, but decided against it...perhaps saving the moment for the morning.
'The sooner I get to sleep,' he understood slyly, 'the sooner I get my wake-up call.'
Sleep was restless, and his fantasies wild. They were so real, Tim almost wasn't sure he'd actually gone home. Instead, he thought he was in bed in his apartment, and Linda Tompkins was stark naked sucking his hardy upright cock with a vengeance.
Linda looked good.
The usually prudish girl's short dark curls framed an impish face, and her brilliant blue eyes were aflame with aroused passion as her pink-painted lips enwrapped his upright pole with feverish sexual intent. Her tits were unbelievable, set firm and bounding aimlessly beneath her chest in time to her wild gyrations.
