Man of the House

A new writer's first offering.

*****

"Mother we need to talk!" She was surprised by his firm tone, but always welcomed their conversations. For over ten year now it was just Karen, her twenty-two years old son Mike, and his nineteen-year old sister Jenny. Karen was near forty now, a homebody, and still in pleasing shape. Her tresses were raven black, only her hair-dresser knew for sure... Her ample bosom sagged alittle, forty years will do that. Her skin showed signs of age but she could still turn heads if she wanted to.

Mike had not seen his mother in anything form-flattering since the old man was around. At home she always wore a bra under her frumpy, baggy sweats. Mostly white, or on a daring day, for her, Mike sometimes caught a glimpse of a black strap and once even, a red bra. Though he thinks that may have been his sister's on a laundry day. An occasional glimpse of cleavage showed the wear of four decades on a full figure. Her chest revealed some wrinkles and the natural effects of gravity on a well-endowed woman.

Her legs were nicely muscled, as she had never been taught to drive, so biking and walking had served her well. And either by design or comfort, she often wore very skimpy, tight shorts in her garden or for her daily runs or rides. Karen sometimes got wolf-calls and whistles from guys and she could truly catch your eye when she leaned over the handle bars and peddled swiftly. The pumping motion often made Mike wish that her swaying breasts would one day spill over the top of her bra.

Karen had been a middle-management secretary back in the day. Schlepping, filing and pleasing a typical ladder-climbing asshole of a boss. She worked overtime and through lunch, and ordered her own flowers for "appreciation day."

After closing a big deal, the boss would escort her to a hotel lounge for a single appletini and offer a snide jab that her career would advance quicker if she spent more time under his desk than infront of it. The crude sexual remarks elicited only a smirk. She sometimes daydreamed that if his remarks were sincere or even clever, she would drag him into the elevator and up to one of the luxury suites on the upper floors. She once joked that they could settle a sexual harassment suit out of court. He merely smiled, drained his glass and scanned the room for younger talent.

For the past ten years, Karen had become a stay at home mom for her two children. She cooked, cleaned and cared for kids while nearly abandoning her own identity.

Mike was a web designer and programmer. He spent countless hours online and on porn sites. He dreamed-up insanely ridiculous scenarios on his laptop, with every fantasy woman from Xena to the Flying Nun. After trolling internet spank-sites into the early morning, he would "run one off" and then hunker down for another frustrating day.

Mike had never been a jock. Though his upscale, early life had afforded him rich-man privileges. He surfed the Pacific off the shore of their Malibu beach house. He took riding lessons as a kid and belonged to a posh racket and croquet club. This however was long ago. His wealthy father had left them with nothing but bills. Karen won custody of a beachfront home the could not afford and platinum cards that served only as anchors.

In came the dot.com. boom and soon, Mike's dexterity with a mouse came as a saving grace. He was too lazy to start his own business and not at all capable of authority. But some other geek saw his potential and rewarded him with benefits that Mike would not have known to bargain for.

The sleek white 'vette was his first comp. He was soon able to pay down the family debt and transfer his sister from a community college to a "big-name" Pac-10 school. His life was suddenly golden and the family adored him.

Mike wasn't classically handsome in this "Hollywood" town. But at 6'2" with dark hair and warm brown eyes he got an offer or a look, now and then. Invariably, that would lead to embarrassment and rejection due to his awkward social skills. Mor porn and new lube would bring his evening to full cycle.

He was long and lean, stringy you might say. With narrow shoulders and concave chest, he was perched on solid legs planted firmly on size thirteen feet. His wrists and forearms though, were a bit outsized from vigorous late-night exercise. And his imagination was on overdrive.

Mike's recent raise, extra responsibilities at work and yet another lousy virtual let-down, left him in a simmering, foul, mood. And he was about to take it out on his family.

When he sat his mother down for their "talk", he had already steeled his nerves with a little vodka and had worked his diabolical scheme online for weeks. In his mind, all his money went into this home and to a sister and mother he was losing interest in. He believed he could easily be on his own, living the high-life. Instead, everyday was a round-up of shopping-lists, utility bills, school work and more. The beach-bunnies and bachelor-pad were nowhere to be found and it was time someone paid.

"Mom," he began, "it's time for some changes. You and Jenny have to start doing more around here."

"Well ofcourse Mike, you are the breadwinner and we would do anything to help out. What can I do for you, dear? Anything we can do to help, you just ask." This was the only way Karen knew how to answer.

She sat pleasantly on the couch, in shorts and a thin blouse. Dark, full black locks framed her face and lay gently on her shoulders. Her family was European and they all inherited the shiny, black hair and olive complexion. Karen seldom wore makeup at home, and that only lipstick and liner to high-light her big, doey eyes. She was content to remain invisible and anonymous. Her hands were folded delicately in her lap, her long fingers intertwined. Light-green shorts riding up her thighs and stretching tightly across her wide hips. Karen's tanned legs showed her toned calfs and thick quads. And her bare legs were crossed at the ankles with one canvas sandal precariously balanced on the toes of her right foot. These mother-son talks always lifted her spirits. She sat her teacup on the inlaid coffee table and scooted to the edge of the sofa. She looked directly into his slightly enlarged eyes. It was good to see Michael taking charge of a situation and she was pleased to see him assert himself more. Karen had taken on the role of facilitator and always tried to ease family friction.

No sense beating around the bush. "Mom, I'm horny. I'm not getting enough sex, and I want to make some changes, here." She was surprised at that, naturally. And coming from her sheltered, nerdy, son. And she wasn't sure what he was trying to say. "Mom," he tried again, "I'm going to change the dynamics here."

She was thoroughly confused, shifting her position, and taking on a look of concern. She tried her best to discern his intent. "do you mean you need more privacy, or that you want to have a girlfriend over? Would you like us to stay out of the way on certain nights? You want to have sex. That's fine, you're a big boy now."

This just tended to infuriate him. And now anger was mixing with alcohol and frustration. "Yes, sex, that's it. In this house. And whenever I want it. And it starts tonight!" His face reddening as he rose and paced the room ominously. His ego grew with each repressed desire.

Karen was flustered and not quite comprehending. "Michael, it's late, Jen's staying with a friend and I can make myself scarce. Let me gather a few things and I'll ride over to my friend, Lisa's."

Karen rose to leave and as she tried to pass, Mike grabbed her wrist and said, "You don't get it, do you? I want sex. I want it, now. And I want it from you." He blurted it out and liked the way it sounded. Then he roughly pulled her back onto the couch.

She was just catching up with his last words, ..."I want it from you." Her beautiful dark, brown eyes grew wide. "Michael, are you crazy? I'm your mother!"

Beads of sweat appeared at her temples and her heart-rate soared. Mike sat on top of her to plant her in her place. Her head started thrashing wildly, her ebon locks clinging to her face and loose strands flying in all directions. Her strong gams kick at him as her sandals flew across the living room. Her grunts of exertion were working like a tonic on his conception of things and he felt his manhood begin to swell. The thrill of the hunt was always better than the trophy! Mike pushed her sweaty, disheveled body into the cushions and figured his next move. It was now or never and he had already gone too far to stop.

Her protests increased verbally and physically as her resistance started. She shrieked in his face and tried to heave him off of her. He was sitting on her belly, his left hand clasping both her wrists and his right hand violently yanking her shorts down her legs. The green fabric of her shorts ripped at the seams as he pulled them down her thighs and past her knees to her ankles. One more tug and they came apart in his hand like a prize. A realization struck her, that this would not be either subtle or sexy. Her son, the geek, intended to rape her. "Michael, please stop. Don't do this to me, Michael. I'll do anything you want." She couldn't see that this was exactly what he wanted, and her fighting only made it better. She struggled and squirmed , her face flushed and her breathing became erratic.

Mike wanted her shirt off and needed to release her hands for a moment. Karen took that opportunity to scratch at his crazed eyes and pull at his sweaty crew-cut hair. She fought like the devil possessed her.

Mike wasn't large (6'2" 175), but at twenty-two years old he was far stronger and furiously determined. "It's go-time!" he barked. He had envisioned slowly undressing her and gently kissing every sexy inch of his prize but a new plan was called for. She continued to beat on him with open palms and tried to drive her knees between his legs. She had no intention of giving in. She would not lift her butt or surrender her dignity but the energy was quickly draining from her. Mike reached behind him and took her undies inhand. One firm tug and they shredded, only one pink cotton strand clung by the elastic around her left thigh.

The tearing sound froze her and when she saw the frayed panties and her exposed pubic hair, the resolve began to ebb. This gave Mike the last advantage he would need. He flipped her onto her stomach and climbed astride her upper thighs. Her arms were now pinned under her body and her legs were in no position to kick anymore.

This was a fantasy other nerds would soon be reading about online. It was better than he had played-out in his mind. And the idea that the flailing, captive vixen at his mercy was his lovely mom, engorged his cock to the bursting point. He could hammer nails with his stiffness.

His cock was fully inflamed and his smile was ear-to-ear. He took pleasure in grasping her collar and ripping the light weight blouse completely off her back. The pink bra was unsnapped deftly, in a maneuver practiced often with her laundry. With her shirt in tatters it seemed her humiliation was complete. Her back was bare, warm and moist, with long red streaks a reminder of the struggle. The remnants of her shirtsleeves still covering her upper arms, the bra lay useless as her breasts were smashed into the cushions. Only the sides of her well-rounded boobs could be seen, flattened underneath her. He tugged off his own sweats and she barely moved.

As she slowly formed the image of her son sitting on her naked body, strumming his fingers down her back and making lewd, disgusting comments on her torso, she lost all will to continue. Oddly, a feeling overtook her. Karen could feel a tingle deep inside as he slobbered kisses down her spine. She noticed an unmistakable wave building in her loins as he reached under her to squeeze her tits. And her heartbeat picked-up once more when she felt his big hands cup the cheeks of her rear-end, then suddenly he cracked his hand across her butt and the shriek she let out was as much pleasure as shock. One more slap on her ass and his palm rubbing her mounds made the humiliation total.

At this, Karen turned her head to reveal a tear-streaked cheek. Her dark hair, now sweaty, was laying damp across her forehead, neck and back. Her body was warm and wet from the exertion and her insides were warm from a foreboding of what was to come.

She feebly whimpered, "Why Michael, why me? What are you going to do?" Mike was exhausted, but these questions only resparked his passion. The struggle done, Mike took a moment to survey his conquest. His mother lay entirely at his command. Pleading, sweating, and enticingly available to his desires. His cock swelled to amazing proportions. One more slap to her jiggly, moist ass and he let out a merciless laugh.

"Michael, please?" She futilely gave it one more shot. "What are you doing?" She was utterly under his control and her emotions seemed comforted and content with that.

Now was the time for Mike to announce his intentions. "Mother, er... I guess I can call you Karen since I'm running my fingers along your pussy lips." At this, she trembled and was about to speak but he cut her off. "Karen, I'm gonna fuck you tonight, a lot. In fact, I'm gonna fuck you every day and night from now on. The shock of those words sent a shiver straight through her, but also aroused a very awkward sensation inside her. How could her body betray her like this? Did she want to be raped? Was it rape if somehow it excited her so much? "Michael, I, I don't know about this."

"You'll do well to listen and obey." With one more slap on her reddening backside, the party was about to begin. His alter-ego was born, and for Mike, that meant "sex-master." He grabbed a big handful of her thick, black locks, and jammed an elbow into the small of her back to arch it, for his approach. With no further talk or fuss, his huge cock started pushing at the lips of her vagina. It was now all too real. She thought maybe she could keep her legs together or squeeze her hips, but again, the fighting just energized him. Thrusting hard, he was able to wedge his cock into her tight pussy and then the devastation was complete. He was pleasantly thrilled to find her pussy slick and gripping his meat like a fist wrapped around it. She was amazed at the same sensation and found herself working to push back on his cock in rhythm with him.

"Michael no, this is wrong. This is incest Michael." She felt as if she said that to deceive herself because she was obviously starting to enjoy the feeling and realize that her entire life had been as a submissive, so why not her sex-life, too. She squeaked once more, "stop, Mike, stop." But she hardly believed herself.

Mike was in total control and they both wanted it that way. "I'm gonna fuck you good, you little bitch. So take my cock in your hot, horny twat and make me feel good."

"Michael, please. I'm not a bitch. I'm your mother." The words excited her all the more.

"you're my bitch, now! My fuck-toy to play with whenever I want. The rage was controlled and voice stayed calm and commanding. He slid a cushion under her belly so that her sweet inviting cheeks were propped-up, as if on a serving-platter. And the pounding started in earnest. "Take that cock, Karen. How does that feel in your slutty little pussy?" His fantasy was running wild and there was no one to stop him. And though he didn't see it, her fantasies were coming to the fore, also. He noticed she was still bucking hard but not trying to throw him off. He could sense the change coming over her. He reached under her to cup each breast and tugged greedily at them, rolling the nipples in his fingers and pinching them hard. With a few more long thrusts in her hot twat, he pulled her hair again so that he could see her big brown eyes. "You love this, don't you bitch?"

"I'm not a bitch."

"You love it. And you love my thick cock. Huh, bitch. Say it, tell me you're my bitch and you love my cock."

She saw now she was becoming hopelessly, helplessly lost. The excitement was real. Her lust was roiling up to the surface and she could feel an orgasm welling-up. Not just an orgasm but an ORGASM. "Allright!, Michael, I love your cock, is that enough?" One more firm smack on her ass told her it wasn't.

"Answer me correctly, bitch!" His thrusts increased in power with each syllable.

Her will was worn down. Her body slumped in total defeat. And she felt one more crack across her bottom. "Not fast enough!"

"Yes Michael, I love your cock," she moaned in a breathy, throaty voice. "your bitch loves your big fat cock."

This soothed his tantrum for the moment but did not stop the plunder. He banged her harder, thrusting his rock-solid member between her inner lips and strove to sink it deep in her pussy. Furiously he pounded, tugging on her tits like they would come off, yanking her black mane croaking in her ear. You're my whore now, and I will use your sweet pussy all day long. Take my cock, bitch. I feel you shaking, I here you moaning and your pussy is soaking my cock. You need fucked and I'm going to fuck you , good. The tension was building in them both, The climax was imminent.

"Mike," using his nickname for the first time, ever. Please don't cum in me." She didn't say don't cum. Or stop. And her mind wondered at that. And it didn't really matter as she had her tubes tied years ago. So why say it? She Knew why, and now she knew she had to say it. "Mike, I want to taste you. I want to taste your cum and feel your warmth in my mouth. I'm begging you, Mike. Cum in my mouth. Her world turned upside down, literally. In two seconds her gaping pussy was empty and Mike had hold of her ears. His enormous rod was pressing between her soft pink lips and she could taste her own juices on his cock. Her hips heaved and shook so violently that she could not keep his meat in her mouth. He corralled infront of her face and shot streams of gooey jism onto her cheeks and nose. Long, sticky rivulets of cum oozed down her chin and hung like twine under her neck, eventually falling to her chest where it puddled in her generous cleavage.

For the first time, she laughed,as she felt the warm liquid batheing her. Mike chuckled also, and scooped some of the mess off her face with his fingers. She surprised him by taking his fingers in her mouth and lewdly licking each one dry. She the scooped more of it herself and swallowed that, too. "I told you I wanted to taste you." When she lowered her head and cupped her boobs in her hand, he was floored. Her pink tongue lasciviously darted out to her nipples and cleaned-up all the semen she could reach. His cock sprang instantly to attention, once more and Karen laid back with her long legs invitingly open. "C'mon, now. Your bitch is ready for action. Fuck me now, fuck me tonight and every day from now on." She understood her world, now and things were about to change...

End of part 1.