Mommy's Rules

Mommy's Rules Ch. 05

We had a double header in a town about three hours away on Saturday. I got up early and rode the team bus to the games, but Mom and I had already planned on driving home together. We thought it would be fun to stop about halfway home for an early dinner.

We split the double header, winning the first game and losing the second. All my work in the gym was really paying off. I was much stronger than I had been at the beginning of the season and had a homer in each of the games, my first two of the season. Mom had even commented on how buff I looked and how big my muscles were. I was a big guy to start with, and now I was a muscled big guy. I tried not to spend too much time admiring myself in the mirror, but it was hard. I looked good.

Mom arrived about midway through the first game and cheered along with the other fans of our college. This team did have a locker room for us, and I showered and changed afterwards so I'd look presentable for dinner out.

For the first couple of hours' drive we chatted and listened to music. The restaurant was an hour from home so the second half of the drive would be shorter. I was kind of looking forward to the second half, thinking maybe we'd fool around a little bit while we travelled.

Mom had asked me to find a nice restaurant in the town and I chose an Italian place with good Google reviews. It was pretty swanky and Mom ordered a glass of some really expensive red wine. I'd be driving the rest of the way home. We chatted and commented on some of the other people in the restaurant. Mom was an inveterate people-watcher, and I had inherited the trait.

Just after the salads arrived I said to Mom, "Something's been kind of bothering me lately."

"What is it, honey?" she asked, looking concerned. She may have thought it was something about our recent activities in the bedroom, but it wasn't.

"Well, we both know that Dad's a complete prick." I paused before continuing. "But I just wonder why he's never called or tried to get in touch with me after the divorce. I mean, you divorced him, not me. I hate the guy, but it just kind of bugs me that he just disappeared."

Mom frowned. "You've already explained it, sweetie. He's a complete prick. Since he can no longer control you and dominate you, he has no need for you." She looked me in the eye and frowned again.

"I'm sorry, baby, but that's the father you were dealt. It's not your fault. You don't know the half of it."

"What's the other half I don't know?" I asked.

"I don't want to talk about it," she answered.

"What is it?" I demanded.

"I don't want to talk about it here. I'll tell you in the car."

The mood had been dampened and our conversation lagged. I tried to brighten things up, even telling Mom I was sorry for bringing up Dad and offering her another glass of wine. She accepted the wine and I called the waiter over to order it. She did perk up a little, and the food was great. By the time the check was delivered, Mom was a little tipsy and most of her sparkly brightness had returned. When we stood to leave she walked right up to me and gave me a lingering, romantic kiss and said, "Thank you, baby. That was a wonderful meal with my perfect man." She got up on her tiptoes and whispered in my ear, "That ought to give everyone here something to talk about when we leave," and took my arm as we strode out.

I got the car back on the highway. After a few moments of silence, I asked Mom, "What's the other half that I don't know about?" She sat staring straight ahead.

"Tell me," I demanded.

"Well, I told you how your father raped me, then called me a whore," she started. "But there's more to that story." I remained quiet and let her continue.

"After about a year of raping me and degrading me at least once a week, he started doing something else." She didn't continue.

"What did he do, Mom?" Again, silence. I repeated, "What did he do?"

"He made me sleep with other men!" she blurted out. I looked over and there was a tear streaming down her cheek. "He forced me to have sex with other men, then he called me a slut and a whore for doing it." She sobbed.

"I don't get it, Mom. How could he force you to do it?"

"I've asked myself that same question a thousand times," she answered. Again silence. After a few moments, she gathered herself up and continued.

"The first time, we were having drinks in the bar at the Sheraton. I think he had planned it all out beforehand because he asked me to get an overnight babysitter in case we were out late. He started chatting with this guy, getting all chummy with him, buying him drinks and invited him over to sit with us in our booth. You know how your father is. When he wants to, he can really turn on the charm, and he had it ramped up full steam."

"When the guy was pretty well lubricated, your dad shocked me by asking him if he'd like to have sex with me. I sat there flabbergasted. I kicked your dad under the table, but he glared at me menacingly." She paused again and I remained silent.

"The guy was all for it and was leering at me. I was so embarrassed. I got up to use the ladies' room and asked your father to come with me so I could tell him to stop. He just told me to be quick and to get right back.

"I was panicked and went to the ladies' room just to stall for time. I knew your Dad would be mad if I stayed too long so eventually I went back to the table and as soon as I sat down, your dad said he was going to the front desk to get a room for us. That left just me and this guy, Rob, alone in the booth. He slid over and put his hand on my thigh and began nuzzling my ear, telling me all the things we were going to do in the bedroom. I was frozen with fear and trembling." She was on a roll now and it was spilling out.

"When your dad got back, he told us he had gotten a suite and we should go up. Rob stood and I remained seated, but your Dad growled at me to get up. I did. We got up to the room and it was beautiful with a kitchenette, a separate bedroom and a view of the city. Your dad raided the mini bar and made us all a cocktail. After we drank for a little while, he told Rob that he should take me into the bedroom."

"Did you go?" I asked.

"Well, I didn't want to and your Dad was getting annoyed. Finally, he told Rob that I was just nervous, but that I was totally into it and forcefully walked me into the bedroom. Rob followed and your father left the room and closed the door. Then he waited outside it.

As soon as the door closed, Rob was on me. He started kissing me and grabbed my breast, squeezing it and pinching my nipple. He pulled me down on the bed and started unbuttoning my blouse. He was kissing my neck and kissed his way down to my boobs and......." She stopped. Again, I remained quiet.

"Well, anyway, I won't go into the details, but twice I went out to the main room to find your father sitting by the door of the bedroom. The first time I was naked from the waist up and I went out the door and begged your father not to make me do this. Again, he glared at me. I was afraid of him. Rob followed me out and told your Dad that if I wasn't into it, he understood. But your father told him that it was all I had talked about for a month, and that I had been begging him to let me fuck another man. I was just nervous, he said, but I'd like it once we got started. None of that was true. This was a complete surprise to me."

"We went back into the room and Rob wanted me to suck his cock. I was hesitant but he put it right up to my face and I gave it a few licks. Then he went down on me and I was shaking and really nervous, but I was shocked because it felt kind of good in spite of it." She stopped again. "Too many details, probably," she said. She did have two glasses of wine, though, and the words were pouring out. "But then he was ready to fuck me. I bolted for the door again, this time completely naked. Again, your father was sitting outside the door and growled at me to get back in the room. I'm so ashamed, but I went back into the room and laid down on the bed with my legs spread and resigned myself to getting fucked by a stranger."

"Oh, Mom. I am so sorry." I reached over and touched her tear-stained cheek. "I hate that man."

"So Rob fucked me three times that night. He was so drunk I don't know how he got up the stamina, but he was on me three times. I got up once to pee, and your Dad was gone. The last time he fucked me was about four in the morning and then he got up, got dressed, and left. I laid in the bed shaking until it got light."

"When I got out to the little kitchenette, there was a note and a fifty dollar bill by the coffee maker. The note said 'Get yourself a cab home'. I felt like a complete whore. Left alone to take a cab home in the wee hours of the morning, where my son was sleeping."

"Fuck him!" I said. "I'm gonna mess him up if I ever see him again." Mom remained silent, having spent herself on the story. Then she continued.

"Your dad wasn't home when I got there. I figured he was probably out fucking one of his whores. All day, no word. No text, no phone call. No, 'Are you okay?' I was distraught all day. After you went to bed he finally showed up, stinking of booze, unshaven, and in the same smelly clothes he had been wearing the night before. He walked in the door, grabbed me and carried me to the bedroom, where he raped me over and over while calling me a whore and a slut. I couldn't stand the touch of him."

"I asked him how he could make me do such a thing? His answer was that I was a slut and I wanted it. He told me he had listened at the door before he left and asked me how many times I had come? I could hear you, he said. I know when you're coming and I heard you come at least twice. You're a fucking whore!"

"Had you come twice?" I asked, not believing it.

"No," she answered. "I came at least four times, and that was just the first time he fucked me." I was stunned. Mom began sobbing.

"But that's what made it even worse!" I couldn't help myself. Once he was fucking me after a while it started feeling good. I dreaded the touch of your father, but this was different. I couldn't help myself, and I just had orgasm after orgasm." She sobbed quietly.

"But it made me feel so dirty and so ashamed. I felt like your father was right, I was a slut and a whore if I would climax repeatedly while being fucked by a complete stranger. I see now that it was a whole cycle of how your dad degraded me and kept me under his control. But at the time it made me feel like a complete piece of shit."

We were getting close to home by this time. I pulled onto our street and hit the garage door opener as I turned into our driveway. Once the car was inside I shut it off and closed the garage door. We sat for a few minutes before I said, "That's not your fault, Mom. He's evil. He manipulated you and forced you, and the physics of it don't matter. The physics are that when your private parts get rubbed, it feels good and you respond. That's just biology and physics, Mom."

She leaned over the console and kissed me on the lips. I could taste the wine and the tears.

"I love you, baby," she whispered. "Don't ever be like him. Always be the one who makes me feel so good and so full and so worthy. That's how I want to feel, not like I did with him." I kissed her back.

When we got inside the house, we were standing in the kitchen and I had to ask her the question that had been looming in my mind. "How many times did he make you do that?" I asked.

"Three or four times a year at first, then less for the last few years. The last time was over a year ago. And don't worry, I was always getting myself tested and luckily I never caught anything. I mean, what are the odds? Twenty five to thirty strangers over a ten year period?" She began to walk towards the hallway leading to her bedroom, but turned back.

"Two more things," she added. "First, that's another reason why I had my tubes tied. I didn't want to get pregnant by some random stranger your dad had picked out. Second, every time I heard him suggest that we go to the Sheraton for a couple of drinks, I would feel dread and fear. I would beg him to not make me go, but he would make my life miserable until I capitulated and agreed to go. Even though I did receive some pleasure from it, I hated it and it made it harder for me to wait for you to turn 18 and graduate so I could dump him."

I just didn't know what to say. I was stunned by the whole thing.

"Now let's go to bed," she said, turning back towards her bedroom. "I need to be held."

We went to her bedroom and she lit a candle. It was still early, but she turned down the covers of her bed, dropped her clothes where she stood and climbed in. She patted the bed and told me to join her. I dropped my clothes and climbed in and took her in my arms. We held each other in silence, just feeling the rhythm of each other's breathing. We were laying with our naked bodies pressed together but there was nothing sexual in that moment. She just needed to be held and I wanted to be there for her. After a bit, I heard her begin to lightly snore. I lay there thinking about the awful thing she had just told me, horrified at the depravity of it, and built a seething hatred of my father. Finally, I too drifted off to sleep, Mom still in my arms. I had dark dreams that night.

********** **********

The next morning I woke up just after dawn with Mom's naked body wrapped around me. I had to pee, so I quietly disengaged myself and was just sliding out of the bed when I heard Mom say, "Come back here when you're finished." I went into her bathroom and relieved myself.

When I came back into the bedroom she appeared to be sound asleep, but as soon as I was laying down, she wrapped herself around me again. It was Sunday, so it was a day off. I was on my back, holding Mom, and I began to drift back to sleep when I felt her stir next to me. She snuggled into me and sighed. I felt her hand begin to lightly rub my chest, then begin a slow journey downwards. She rubbed my chest, then went down to my stomach and rubbed there for a minute or two, then down to the area just above my cock, which was slowly rising to meet her hand. When it did, she took hold of it with a light grip and began to lightly stroke it. I shifted so I was facing her and put my hand on her breast, squeezing lightly and giving her nipples little touches and pinches. She sighed and turned towards me so we were face to face, chest to chest, groin to groin, on our sides. We kissed and she began moving her entire body against me.

As she lightly stroked me, she lifted her top leg and put it over mine, opening her legs. She pulled on my cock and I shifted closer, and she began rubbing my cock against her pussy. She rubbed the head up and down her pussy, holding the shaft firmly in her hand. I shifted again, and my cock moved down to the opening of her vagina. She held it there, moving it a little, just letting it rest there with small circular motions. I wanted so much to press it and feel it slide into her, but I waited for her signal. She began to rub the tip all around the opening, coating it in her juices. Then she rubbed it up her slit until it was touching her clit. She rubbed it on her clit for a few moments, then took it back down to the opening of her hole, bathing it in her juices. Then back up to her clit for rubbing, just like she had showed me with the dildo.

The next time she moved it down I couldn't help myself and gave a slight push and felt it slide in just a tiny bit. She didn't react in a negative way, just rubbed it around where it was, gathering her juice, then slid it up to her clit. We were kissing and letting our tongues feel each other as she moved it against her clit and moaned. When she took it back down to the opening I pushed again and when it just slid in a tiny bit, she moaned again. She very methodically swirled the tip around the area just inside her vagina, then pulled it up again to rub her clit.

Again, she took it down and I pushed again and entered her another inch. She moved it in small circles so just the tip of my cock was rubbing just the very inside of her cunt. Then she shifted so my shaft lay against her entire pussy, and moved on top of me.

She sat up and began rubbing her pussy on the shaft of my cock. She was wet, and it slid easily up and down the length of it. I reached up and took both breasts in my hands and she leaned forward so I could take her nipples in my mouth. Her hair fell over her face as I went from one breast to the other, sucking in her nipple as she moaned each time and rubbed herself against my stiff cock. I fit perfectly into the long cleft of her vulva, my shiny head peeking out from above, rubbing against her clit. It was a perfect camel toe slide and it was a slippery ride.

She sped up and her moaning increased as I began lightly biting and sucking her nipples completely into my mouth. I could sense that she was getting close and I started pushing up against her with my pelvis, increasing the pressure on her clit with each glide. She was going fast now, up and down, rubbing her clit against the mushroom head of my dick and suddenly she went over the edge. She wailed as she rode my cock into her orgasm. Her body was spasming as she bucked and rode me like a bronco.

Before she finished I rolled her over on her back and put my cock back up against her sopping wet pussy. I began to pump it up and down faster and faster until I felt my own release coming. I suddenly had the image of my cock sliding right into her, and I could almost feel it as if it was actually happening. That was enough to push me over the edge and I shot load after load onto her stomach, pelvis, and thighs.

"Holy fuck," she said after a moment. "That was pretty intense. Are you okay?"

I told her I was fine, and then she thanked me again for not pushing it into her.

"I think the tip went in, Mom," I replied.

"Maybe it did," she said. "But it was an accident."

We made love twice more during the daytime between chores and entertaining ourselves, and both times she took hold of my cock and rubbed it against her, and both times the tip went in just a little bit. I finished her with my mouth once and the dildo once, and she deepthroated me once and finished me between her tits once.

The last time, as she was rubbing my cock against her opening, she whispered quietly. "Just the tip, Jason. Just the tip."

************ ***********

She made a really nice dinner for us that night. The sadness of the prior evening seemed to have left her. I wasn't going to even bring it up, but while we were eating, she said, "Honey, thank you for being so understanding last night. It really brought up a lot of bad memories for me to go over that, and I was terrified about what you'd think of me after you'd heard it."

"I don't think any less of you, Mom. I love you."

"I love you, too, honey," she answered, looking at me with a puppy dog look.

"So would you be comfortable telling me more about what Dad made you do? Or is it too painful?" I asked.

"No, I think I feel better after having told you last night, and you accepting it. I can talk about it."

"I haven't accepted it," I answered. "I hate my Dad more than ever and I want to hurt him."

"Don't do anything stupid, honey. He's not worth it." She took a bite of her chicken.

"So tell me, did Dad pick out men that were acceptable to you, or just random guys?"

"Well, it was kind of random because it was almost always a guy who was at the bar at the Sheraton. Later, though, it could be any bar or cocktail lounge, and your Dad didn't spring for the nice room. He'd just drop us off at a cheap motel and pay for the room. He always gave me the fifty for cab fare, which made me feel like a whore getting paid."