All characters are at least 18 years of age.
***
Everyone called her "Mrs. B", because her last name was Polish, and hard to pronounce. She wasn't married – her husband had died a few years back, leaving her set for life. She had no particular job. Dating was an option, but Mrs. B. was in her 40s, and she looked it. Still, she had a very curvy body. A little heavy, but there was a silver lining – luscious breasts, like pillows. She didn't play this up though. She was modest. She felt that dating again would be emotionally difficult for her son, at this critical stage in high school.
Her son, Charlie, was small for a senior. Innocent. Unsurprisingly, he got picked on at school. Three guys, specifically – Buck and his two buddies.
When he came home bruised, he begged his mom not to interfere. These guys were fucked up, he said. Though he didn't use that language. But he made it clear that Buck and his friends were the Columbine-kind of fucked-up. And they knew where he lived. So she agreed to a hands-off approach, after much reluctance.
The second time it happened, she didn't even argue. She went straight to the school's principal.
There, Buck and his crew were called in from class, and she revealed the systematic abuse which her son was suffering at their hands. She had pictures. The works. The boys, Buck especially, leered at her, blatantly checking out her breasts. No decision was made on that occasion, but as the boys were dismissed, Buck whispered in Mrs. B's ear: "you're going to regret this, bitch."
The boys were expelled. Not one day had passed after their expulsion, when they showed up at Mrs. B's house. When she opened the door, they burst in, grabbing her. Charlie, hearing the commotion ran downstairs, only to have an arm encircle his neck from behind. They had knives. Charlie and his mom were quickly gagged.
"Mrs. B... actually, I'm going to call you 'Mrs. Bags' because of your tits," Buck said. The boys chuckled. Mrs. B's eyes where wild with fear. And Charlie, he didn't even know his mom had gone to the principle. But the boys explained it to him then in there what his mom did. They stated, in no uncertain terms, that Mrs. B and her son were going to pay.
"We're going to play a little game." With that, the boys tore through Charlie's clothes until he was naked. Mrs. B struggled – useless. And Charlie couldn't do much to resist, with a knife at his throat. He was forced to sit on a chair, leaning off the edge. There, one of the boys moved the knife from Charlie's neck, to under his balls. Charlie made a strange whining sound.
"Shut up, you aint a girl yet", Buck said. "Here are the rules, Mrs. Bags. You have ten minutes – ten, to make Charlie cum. But you can't touch him. Only he can touch himself. If you fail, my buddy here will cut off Charlie's balls, and you'll have a lovely daughter instead of a son. He ain't much of a man anyway. Same goes if you try to attack any of us or try to leave or call for help. He turned to Charlie "And same goes for you. You try to get, try to leave, try anything other than playing with that baby dick of yours, and 'snip!'".
Buck motioned one of the boys, who proceeded to set up a tripod and video camera.
"For memories." Buck removed her gag. "So get to it, Mrs. Bags."
She stood there, aghast.
Buck looked at his watch. "You have nine minutes and fifty-five seconds until we put Charlie's severed balls in the sink garbage disposal." Buck made an illustrative grinding sound.
Mrs. B had no choice. She had to help her son cum. But Charlie didn't see how doing so was possible. He and his mother were being held hostage. He had a knife against his balls. He was being threatened with castration. This wasn't exactly conducive to masturbation. Fear was all he felt. And shame.
He watched as his mother rose, looking uncertain. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, then finally blurted out:
"Uh, Charlie, do you want to see my... see my tits?"
Charlie was in disbelief, amidst the snickers. He his mom just said that? She started unbuttoning her blouse, pulling the top half apart and tucked the open flaps under her breasts.
Charlie had only fleeting glimpses of his mother's breasts over the years. Now he was staring straight into her cleavage. He could see the dark outline of her nipples against the plain white bra. But he could also feel the knife against his balls. He wasn't remotely hard.
Mrs. B. noticed this too. "I've seen you take a sneak peak down my blouse before, Charlie. I know my... um, titties turn you on." She held up her bra-ensconced breasts. "Have you ever gone into my things to find out what bra-size I wear? I know you have. They're 38 double-F." She ripped open the rest of her blouse, and threw it aside. Her breasts, even encased in her bra, were enormous. Her gut protruded a little bit, but that was to be expected. She reached behind herself to unclasp her bra, but halted, deciding against it.
Charlie was still soft. He had seen his mother in a two-piece before – the really wasn't any different. Except that he was scared as hell.
She turned it up a notch. "Baby, I'm a woman, and have sexual needs too. I know you do. Why can't we satisfy those needs together?" she said, as she caressed her breasts. "I've always wanted you, Charlie. That's the truth. Ever since your dad passed on, I've been masturbating to the image of you replacing him in my bed." She seemed sincere. But this couldn't be real. Either way, he was still soft. He should have been hard, but the stress of knowing how important it was to get an erection, kept him from accomplishing that end.
"You hear that Charlie?" one of the guys said. "Your mommy wants you to fuck her!"
Buck slapped the guy behind the head. "Don't fucking help her out turning him on."
"What would you like, Charlie? Do you want my body? I'll let you nibble on my nipples, and chew on my tits..." she was getting more comfortable with the language "...and you can shove your... cock... into my hairy... you know, my hairy cunt." The guys cheered. She unbuttoned her jeans, pushed them to her ankles, and stepped out of them. She had hefty thighs. Then she locked her thumbs around the band of her plain white panties, and slowly pulled them down, revealing more and more bush.
"My cunny needs a nice fat cock, Charlie. I can see you have that. And there's no one I'd rather to have inside me than my own son." With that, she removed her panties. Bush abounded.
Charlie's penis, originally at an oddly bent shape, began to unfold, slightly. Seeing his reaction, Mrs. B. was encouraged.
"Or how about I get on my hands and knees by the door every afternoon... when you come home, I can greet you with a blowjob. You like to have your... you know, your cock... sucked, right Charlie? Would you let mommy suck your cock? Wouldn't you like to have my lips wrapped around your rod?" She stuck two fingers in her mouth and pumped them. "I'm a swallower, Charlie. I like the taste of cum. And I'd love to taste my son's cum. Would you like that?"
The guys reacted with jeers and hollers. Ignoring them, she continued. Charlie cock's, though straightened out, was still soft. Mrs. B.'s eyes showed desperation, as Buck announced the time remaining.
She decided to include more specific in the imagery she was evoking. "I could be your sex-slave, Charlie. Would you like that? Your own personal... fuck-meat? Think about it. You don't have to masturbate any more. Imagine you're doing your homework, and you feel restless... you want to get off. Usually, you'd masturbate, right? You'd use the Internet. But now you just have to find me."
"Suppose I'm washing the dishes. You can come behind mine, and pull of my pants, pull my panties to the side, bend me over the sink, and fuck the... fuck the shit out of me!"
His cock twitched. See this, she found hope, and went further.
"Yea Charlie, you can rip open my blouse and bra, push mommy over the edge of the sink, until my tits dip into the soapy water. And when you fuck my wet cunt, my tits will slap the water." The vivid picture was having an effect on Charlie. "You can pull my hair up, until my back is arched, and fuck me while you grope at my soapy tits."