Well, after the life changing events from yesterday, I went out with my friends. Bar to bar, and, once again, still a lonely boy. When I got home it was late. I went to bed, and, yes, I jerked off to the day’s events. My God, but my Mum looked so good covered in my sperm. I wish I could have taken a picture, though I’m sure I’ll always remember the way she looked. Fully clothed and facialed is one of my favourite things to masturbate to on the porn sites. And it was my Mum! With my cum on her face!
So along comes Saturday morning (which I slept through). Up at just past noon, and I make my way down to the kitchen. My Mum always has breakfast ready for me at lunchtime on Saturday’s and Sunday’s! I think she likes the weekend sit-downs at the table because we get to talk. I was just a bit nervous about today’s conversation, and I’m sure it was the alcohol still in my blood that gave me the courage to even sit down with her at the kitchen table.
After the usual “’morning” and the likes, she poured me a cup of coffee. She was very quiet…almost cold. She opened the fridge, grabbed three eggs, and looked at me. She looked incredibly worried. She squinted at me.
“It’s okay, Mum,” I said, slurping my coffee. “You wanna talk about it?” Thank God for residual alcohol!
“I do, Daniel,” as she cracked open the eggs. “ I’m not ashamed, and I’m worried that you’re ashamed.”
Though it wasn’t a question, I answered. I told her that I wasn’t ashamed of her, or of me. I even blurted out that I enjoyed it.
”It was your father. He made be believe that it was a good thing. For the skin. Wrinkles and aging. He even said it was good for other things.”
“Such as?” I asked, as she stirred the eggs in the pan, and grated cheese on top.
“Internal…such as making a person healthier.”
If it wasn’t for the lingering state of me being semi- being drunk, I would never had the nerve to ask what I did…
“Hey Mum?”
“Yes, Daniel?”
“Howcome yesterday I couldn’t put it in your mouth?”
The scrambled eggs were almost ready. I sat patiently as she pulled out a plate and scooped them out from the pan. She salted the plate then brought it to me, and sat down at the table.
“Your father was a good man, for the most part. He raised a good kid.” She seemed to be struggling for words, biting her lip. “But in bed he could be an asshole.”
“Tell me, Mum.”
“He used to put his penis in my mouth, but he liked to go too far. He would force his whole thing inside my mouth, choking me. He would sometimes use my mouth as if it was a vagina.”
I was listening and eating at the same time. My Mum makes the best scrambled eggs.
“Countless times we’d have dinner, then he would do ‘that’, and it would make me sick.”
“Yuck,” said I with my mouth full.
“Daniel?”
“Yes, Mum?” I swallowed the last of my eggs.
“He would make me vomit. I can’t do ‘deepthroat’ like they do on those sites or in the movies. Even if I vomited on his penis he would still continue. Your father liked it dirty. I could be puking up all my dinner on him and he wouldn’t stop sliding it in and out of my throat.”
