It was exquisite. The tip of the vibrator touched her relaxed nipple, and the shock ran the length of her body. The nipple immediately began to inflate, rising to the stimulus of the thing teasing it. She told him to take his time, to play, to tease, to draw and trace. She was in no hurry, and neither was the vibrator. She wanted it to last a while, allow her to sink into the experience.
The vibrator was an animal on her skin, a humming, quivering little beast that roamed all over her. Up, down, around, over, across, the animal traced and tripped and stimulated. From the tip of her nipple to the base of her breast, the thing cavorted and gamboled. Wherever it touched, it left an electric trail, a bit of vibration that seeped through her skin into her flesh where it echoed and reverberated. Each pass reinforced the vibration, sending the tiny waves deeper and deeper. It was as if her entire body began to pulse with the creature, returning the hum in harmonic convergence. All over her breasts the crying thing paused and raced and trotted and slunk, sometimes pressing hard, sometimes barely touching, an angel and an ogre. Sometimes it would press hard, compressing her breast and getting louder in her ears. Sometimes, it would make almost no contact, the humming faint and far away. And ever changing, the thing delighted her, stoked her, fueled the fire inside her. She directed the symphony of vibrations, calling for a tuba here, a violin there, brass and percussion, all melding into a sex soaked performance. She had never done herself like this, never had anyone do it for her. She couldn't believe how wonderful it felt.
When she could no longer stand the anticipation, she told him to move lower. The creature traipsed across her abdomen and through the clipped patch of hair and licked her lips. She shivered and directed, and let the lover play.
And it did play.
It touched and flicked and probed and entered and exited and spun and twirled, and always it hummed, sending that never varying wave into her. She concentrated on the feeling, the satisfaction, the depth and width and stimulation. Why did it feel so much better when Ricky did it to her? Why was this the best the thing had ever felt? He was using it on her, in her, doing her as she wanted to be done, and because it was her son, her little Ricky, it was better than any time she had used it on herself. She was game for it, for him, for what he was doing to her, for taking her body higher and higher in an ever rising dance of sex and heat. The thing, Ricky's animal hounded her clit. It touched and pressed and caressed and kissed and rubbed with its silky hum. She felt herself meet the animal's challenge, her body doing its own hum, its own vibration. It seemed as if every part of her marched to the same tone, a tone that had penetrated her brain as well as her body.
At her behest, the creature began to fuck her. In and out, in and out, around and around, the thing fucked her with the precision and strength she needed. More, it was Ricky using it on her. Ricky fucked his mom with a tool that turned her into a wanton slattern in need of more and more. She pressed him to do more, to use his strength, to make the beast please her as it had never pleased her before. In and out, in and out, Ricky breathing hard as he spread her and used her and listened to her moans. Yes, yes, yes, right there, harder, Ricky, harder. The pleas for more escaped her lips. Make mommy cum, baby, make mommy cum. She couldn't help herself. The little beast drove her mad with sheer fervor, with a desire for more. The harder he thrust, the more she wanted, needed. She felt perspiration slide down her sides. Her hips thrust against his power. Her brain seemed overloaded with that single tone, that hum. It was better than any mantra ever invented, made more potent by little Ricky. It was the heartbeat of an electrical creature, a rate she was trying to match. Ever deeper, ever harder, Ricky used her, and she used the creature. She begged him for more for a release she had to have. He had to fuck mommy, and fuck her again and again. She ordered it, she begged for it, she moaned and gasped when it came. She needed it in a way she had never needed anything.
And then, it happened, exactly what she had been waiting for. The clamp, the release, the flood of heat and moisture, the little death. It came with the hum, with the tone, and it held her in its grasp for some moments. She breathed, her sight returned, and she relaxed even as Ricky fell back on the bed, as exhausted as she. The vibrating animal remained inside, but it was tame now, harmless, and it felt so right she let the thing hide in her cave.
That night, she slept without dreams.
At work, Lori was becoming more and more distracted. Despite her best efforts, her mind drifted back to Ricky, to his shaft, to the vibrator, to what she had him do to her. Every time her mind wandered, she felt a rush of heat, her body automatically reacting to the images in her mind. It was the best daydream she had ever had. But she had to push it away. If she didn't, she would end up rubbing herself at her desk.
Lunch distracted her. She attended a going away lunch for one their employees, and it was fun. It also drew her mind away from Ricky. Still, she was anxious as everyone left and she logged onto the net. She licked her lips as she looked for SONSTROKE. But he wasn't there. She waited 30 minutes before she logged off. What had happened to him?
Had she not been distracted she might have noticed the person sitting inside her car before she was halfway across the lot. By the time she did notice, she was in no-man's land. She stopped and stared. Someone was in the front seat, and that shouldn't be. She always locked her car. Swallowing hard, she started to back up. She reached into her purse for her phone when the door popped open.
"Hi, mom," Ricky said.
"You," she said as she started for the car. "What are you doing here?"
"I thought you'd like some company."
She smiled. She wanted company more than he could ever know. She nodded for him to follow, and she headed for the office. She held the door as he slipped past. Then, she locked it. She didn't want interruptions. She followed him into the office and sat on her desk, facing him. He grinned.
"Take it out," she said.
He unbuckled, unzipped, and let his pants fall to the floor. Then, he jerked down his shorts, and there it was, the thing she had dreamed about all day. Even as she stared, it grew, filling with blood and desire. It looked wonderful to her, thick and hard and pink and ready. She literally salivated as she watched. Then, she hiked up her skirt, pulled down her panties, and spread her legs. She waved him forward, grabbing his face and kissing him hard even as she guided him inside. God, he tasted and felt wonderful.
Then, she began to fuck him. She grabbed his ass and rammed him home as she wrapped her legs around him. She whispered in his ear that she wanted a quick, hard fuck, a slam-bam fuck. She was in no mood for niceties or foreplay. She wanted it hard and deep and fast. She needed it that way. Not only was it dangerous to do it in her office, but her body craved it quick and hard. She wanted it more like a rape, a hit and run. She wanted to be taken and used by little Ricky, made to like it by little Ricky. As if caught in her office and forced, she wanted him to hammer her for a few minutes, until he came in a rush. It might not be satisfying, but it was what she wanted, a quickie.
She whispered and urged, telling him to fuck mommy hard, to make mommy his bitch, to cum in her no matter whether she was ready or not. Yes, baby, yes, hard in mommy. Cum quick, cum hard, treat mommy like the tramp she is, like the tramp she'll always be for your thick cock. She dug her fingernails into his back and humped with him. The desk was hard on her ass, and he was hard in front of her, and it hurt some, but it was a good hurt, the best hurt. She knew that at any moment someone might catch them, and that added to the naughtiness of it all. Not only was she locked onto her son, but they were in her office, doing it on her desk. Nothing was sacred. And he was doing her like a stranger, like a man who wanted to use her for his own brief pleasure. She urged, and she suddenly understood how some women liked the idea of sex with strangers, of being forced to accept a man, of being used. She wondered how many women entertained the idea of being raped by their son, of being held and fucked, used like a slut off the street. How many, not that it mattered. She understood that she wanted it this way, that she would have it this way.
She pulled him tighter and squeezed with her thighs, whispering that he should pound mommy, that he should shoot fast. Mommy wanted him to explode, to use her quick on her own desk. To fuck her in her office, to show her that he would fuck her anywhere at any time, whenever and wherever he wished. That she would take it and like it no matter how long it lasted or where it happened. Yes, baby, yes, do it now.
And he did.
With a pump and a rush and a yell, he came, shooting into her. She wasn't ready, she didn't match him, but that didn't matter. She milked him and whispered in his ear how good it felt. Oh yes, it was wicked and good and hard and fast and in a place where they might get caught. It was delicious. And when he was done, she didn't hold him. She told him to get dressed. They were going home, and when they got there, she would want satisfaction. He had better be ready. She watched him drive away before she started her engine.
Lori was half way home when her cell phone rang.
"Are you on your way home?" Marie asked. "Tell me you are because I'm going crazy, and I need to talk to you. Hell, I need a place to hide. If I go home, he'll be there with it in his hands, ready for me. I don't think I can handle that today."
"I'm on my way," Lori answered. "Let yourself in and wait for me. We'll talk."
"You're a lifesaver."
"Hang in there."
Lori hung up and wondered how she might help her friend. Obviously, Marie was collapsing before her son's onslaught. It was only a matter of time before Marie succumbed, and then she would despise her own weakness. Marie hadn't yet reached the point where she would be OK with sex with her son—unlike Lori. She grabbed her phone and dialed.
"Ricky, listen," she began, "Marie should be waiting when you get there. She's a bit strung out, so offer her a glass of wine. I'm going to call and say I'm delayed. When I do, I want you to seduce her."
"What?!"
"Trust me, she wants sex with a teenager in the worst way, and you're safer than Todd. I don't think it will be difficult. Come on to her and give her a great fuck."
"Mom—"
"Don't worry, I'll be close by. Do it right, and she'll be very grateful." Lori laughed. "We all will."
She killed the connection and headed for home. She wasn't quite sure what she would find when she got there, but she knew it would be interesting. What exactly would Marie do with little Ricky? Lori found herself a bit turned on by the possibility. What indeed?
She parked around the corner from the house and walked. She stopped when she saw Marie's car parked alongside Ricky's. She phoned and told Ricky she would be a while...traffic. She almost laughed at the excuse, but she didn't dare. She asked if Ricky had given Marie a glass of wine, and he said she was on her second. Perfect. Lori hung up and moved cautiously toward the rear of the house.
She let herself in through the utility room door, and she was as quiet as she knew how to be. As soon as she closed the door and slipped off her shoes, she heard Marie giggle in the family room. Lori wasn't exactly sure what the giggle meant, but it was a good giggle, not a bad one. Lori moved silently through the kitchen and peeked into the family room. Marie and Ricky were dancing without music. Lori took the opportunity to slip between the couch and the wall and wait.
"Shouldn't you put on some music," Marie giggled. "I mean, it's harder to teach without music,"
"I have a confession to make," Ricky answered. "Remember a month ago when I spent the night with Todd at your house?"
"Yes."
"Well, I couldn't sleep. So, I crept out of the room and started for the kitchen to get something to eat. For some reason, I stopped by your room and looked in."
"What did you see?"
"You were asleep on the bed in your slip or whatever, and the moon was shining through the window, and you looked all silvery, like a goddess. Your hair was spread out around your face, and you looked so happy, so content, so beautiful. I've never forgotten that image. Your body folded and yet open, those...er...breasts in the silver light. I must have stared at you for five minutes."
"I, I never knew."
"How could you. Can I confess one more thing?"
"What?"
"I don't know if I should admit this."
"Go on."
"I got the biggest hard on you've ever seen. Mammoth, solid as rock. I couldn't help it. It just came up."
"And?"
"Well, I had to do something about it, didn't I?"
Marie laughed. "I know exactly."
"And every time I think about that night...well, feel what it does to me?"
Lori couldn't stand any more and as carefully as she knew how, she slipped under a table and peeked.
Marie and Ricky still swayed in the middle of the room, but where his hands were around her, she had one hand on Ricky's crotch. Lori knew absolutely what Marie was feeling. As she watched, Ricky leaned in and kissed her, a long kiss, his hands kneading her ass. When they stopped, she moaned in a way that made Lori half jealous. Then, he began to unbutton her blouse.
