Cum 4 Mommy: A Cum Bucket Story
Summary: Mom's cum addiction is sated by virgin nerd son's big cock.
Note 1: This is a
2016 NUDE DAY
Contest
Story.
Note 2: Thanks to Robert, goamz86, and Wayne for editing this story.
Cum 4 Mommy: A Cum Bucket Story
I love cum.
I mean to the point I believe it should be its own special food group.
I mean I am addicted to cum.
I mean I am addicted to cum like a junky is addicted to heroin.
I mean to the point that if I don't get at least a load a day, preferably at least two, I begin to go through withdrawal.
I love a cock in my mouth... especially when I get to feel it grow from soft to hard.
I love the variety of lengths... from the smallest not even four inches to one that was over a foot long.
I love the variety of girths... thin like a pencil, thick like a German sausage.
But most of all... as I already mentioned... I love cum.
Cum was my delicacy... and to me cum is similar, but much better, than oysters. I love the slimy feeling in my mouth as I sometimes allow it to swish in my mouth as if I'm tasting a new wine or as it slides down my throat. I love the unique, one of a kind, taste... each load of cum, like each oyster, a one of a kind delicacy... similar and yet different.
Simply put... in case it isn't already abundantly clear... I fucking love cum. I mean I'd much rather have a cock in my mouth than in my cunt or ass (and trust me I have experimented with cock in all three holes many times).
I love the power I have when I have a cock in my mouth. I decide when they come, I control the pleasure.
And although I love swallowing cum, I also enjoy the thrill of having my face painted with cum. A facial is like a warm bath... plus cum is great for the skin. I often get compliments, even now at forty-five, about my perfect skin and only a few of my closest friends know my secret to perfect skin is cum baths.
Anyways.... I think you get my point.
When I was young it was easy to get as many loads as I wanted in a day: in high school I was a cheerleader, but when it came to getting my cum I usually went to the nerd clubs who were both grateful to have a girl who wanted to suck them and able to keep a secret.
After a football game, while the other cheerleaders went to football parties, I would go to Eugene's house and suck every nerd's cock while they played Dungeons and Dragons or whatever other nerd game they were playing that weekend.
At school, the nerds even had their own room because the teachers trusted them so much and thus I often went and got a load or two or three or more during the day. Every day at lunch, I would sneak away at some point for some nice creamy cum.
Prom night, I lost my virginity to my college boyfriend, who I often sucked as well, but earlier that night I swallowed a dozen loads of cum from every graduating nerd.
In college it was even easier... although it didn't take long to get a reputation as a slut who would suck anyone... which I would.
I sucked students, sports teams (yes, an entire team), professors, the Dean and, in my senior year over a weekend, an entire frat house.
The real world was harder... pun intended... to find cocks to suck. I ended up getting pregnant by my boyfriend in my last semester of college and, being a good Catholic (hahaha), I married him.
We had three kids, all boys, and for years I tried to be a good faithful wife. James had a nice cock and sure wasn't one to reject my mouth and the daily blow jobs I gave him.
Yet, it was never enough. I always craved more.
And then one day... while out for groceries... I ended up in an adult store... and then in a gloryhole... and then on my knees... and then sucking stranger's cocks.
And once that first load erupted in my mouth, my addiction was back.
That first day, I sucked six and swallowed each unique, tasty load... savouring each, convincing myself at the time this was just a one-time indiscretion, a quick one time fix.
That night, at the kitchen table with my husband, and my eighteen year old son (my nineteen year old and twenty one year old sons no longer living at home), I felt extreme guilt at cheating... at what I had done... and promised myself I would not do it again.
Yet....
I returned the next day and spent a couple of hours sucking a dozen or so cocks. Losing track of time and the count, ending up showing up late for the PTA meeting I was supposed to be running.
Each night I would feel guilt at my actions and yet the next day I would always end up in a dingy adult store (I would learn the city had 12 different glory holes, not to mention some set-up by perverts... thus I would rotate through all of them to get variety and avoid getting a reputation at one), on my knees sucking as many cocks as I could in the time I had allotted myself. My record, on a Tuesday in the business district, was thirty-three (I swallowed twenty of those loads and wore the other thirteen all over my face)... but usually three to five loads was my norm.
One afternoon, after taking six loads after a bake sale fundraiser meeting at my son's school for his upcoming prom, I came home an hour before school was to end and was surprised to see my son's car in the driveway.
I checked my face to make sure the two loads that had splattered my face was all off before I headed into the house. Glancing down at my red blouse, I saw it had a couple of cum stains, but it was unlikely that he would know that was what it was... my son was a bit awkward, a bit shy and thankfully, at eighteen, more interested in getting a full scholarship to Harvard than going to parties.
I entered the house and went directly to my bedroom to change, when I didn't see him in the kitchen or living room. I was walking by his room and towards mine when I heard a surprising sound. "That's it, slut, suck my cock."
That was Josh's voice.
Did I really hear him just call someone a slut?
Did I really hear him talk about getting his cock sucked?
I had never even heard him swear before.
I walked slowly to the slightly open door, curious who he could be talking to... especially in my room.
He then said, "That's it, Mom, deep throat my cock with that slut mouth of yours."
I froze.
What?
Was he talking about me?
Was someone pretending to be me?
Before I could move, he continued, with a groan, "Oh yes, use those nylon legs on me, Mommy."
I always wore nylons... my husband likes them and I had grown-up wearing them as they were very popular in the 1980's and especially with our skimpy cheerleading outfits. I just loved how they showcased my legs and, truthfully, I loved the feel of them on my legs (I only bought sheer silk pantyhose, thigh highs and stockings from Wolford).
Slowly, I moved to the slightly ajar door, and peeked inside.
I stared in shock.
He was alone.
On my bed.
He was masturbating with a stocking on his hand.
Holding a pair of my soiled panties in one hand that he was sniffing.
He was also completely naked.
And....
And....
And....
His cock was huge.
Thick.
Long.
Perfection.
I couldn't help it, instantly my mouth watered and my pussy dampened.
I briefly forgot that he was my son as I stared at the perfect cock just a few feet away from me.
"You want my cum, don't you, Mommy-slut?" he groaned, now furiously stroking his cock with his nylon-clad hand.
I gasped, thankfully he was too far gone to actually hear me and I watched in voyeuristic awe as he grunted, "Take my cum all over your face, my live-in cum bucket."
God, I couldn't believe his words, or how much they were turning me on. Although I loved sucking cock, loved cum, I had always hated name calling. I was a lady... just a lady who had a cum addiction.
Yet, his words had my pussy on fire, or maybe it was his thick, long, hard cock... either way I was completely intoxicated by my son masturbating.
Then his cum exploded in the air like a missile and I watched in hunger and disappointment (what a waste of precious cum) as it landed somewhere other than my mouth.
"Yeah, take it all, Mom," he groaned, as rocket after rocket of yummy cum shot out of him like a machine gun.
Once the last rocket finished, landing somewhere on my bed, I tip-toed backwards and then scurried out of my house so he didn't know I was home and had seen what I saw.
In my car, I sat there in shock.
What just happened? Okay, I know what just happened... the real question was what should I do about it?
Was it natural for a son to fantasize about his mother?
How often had he been doing this?
Why did it get me so excited?
How often did he use my stockings to masturbate... sniff my soiled panties?
Sure he had a big cock!
Sure he shot a huge fucking load of cum... yummy, yummy cum!
But he was my son.
I waited a couple of minutes so he could clean up, put my panties back in the laundry hamper, my stocking away (I wondered if any of his cum landed on them), before I headed back into the house.
I slammed the door hard enough to alert Barry that I was home.
I walked into the kitchen, giving him more time, and got a drink of water... trying to quench my thirst, although it wasn't water I wanted.
I then called out, "Barry, are you home?"
"Yeah," he called out, coming down the stairs.
"You're home early," I said, trying to act casual, as he entered the kitchen, my eyes instantly drawn to his crotch.
"Early dismissal," he explained.