Not A Helping Hand
Chapter 1
When you first meet Gloria you're going to be awestruck by her beauty, considering her age. She is 55, has clear skin, wide blue eyes and thick, auburn hair. Most important, she has only one tattoo -- of two people fucking. Her lips are full, kissable, and always moist. Her hair is tinted brown, curly, and she brushes it out every day, causing her heavy breasts to wobble, her nipples being tickled by her red silk kimono. She had a full bosom, small waist and very wide hips. She thinks her ass is too big, but her son worships her ass.
She has a masters in Clinical Psychology, but doesn't work as a therapist. She does volunteer work counseling rape victims. She went to school over 30 years ago, choosing an education over getting married and having kids. Unfortunately she got knocked up one night, the one time she let a college football player fuck her. She usually dated med students because they knew where the 'good spots' were.
Gloria is a very religious person, and truly believes God will answer her prayers. Especially when it concerns cock sucking. The Bible tells us there are seven levels of Heaven. As we'll learn in our story. Gloria often found herself in seventh heaven, populated no doubt by other cock suckers in the universe. We first meet Gloria in her bedroom, fingering herself. This was a prelude to arousing herself, of course, and then she'd find herself in seventh Heaven, panting and screaming.
Gloria had a son, Robert, a 35 year-old classical horn player. To be more specific, he played the trumpet. He loved jazz but he could not improvise; he ended up playing with the community symphony orchestra. He hadn't married yet because women were afraid to date him. His cock was immense, and rumors had it that his former girl friend had to have vaginal rejuvenation because of the size of his weapon.
Because Robert was hung like a donkey, Gloria had fantasies about his cock. She imagined herself pulling on it, bare handed, and also wearing velvet gloves to the elbow, as worn by fashionable Victorian ladies. His balls were the size of small grapefruit, and swung lewdly when he walked.
The mature mother sprawled naked on her bed, her auburn tresses strewn across the pillow. Her attractive face was breathless in near ecstasy, as she pounded two fingers in and out of her wet pussy. Gloria was fantasizing about Robert's pulpy dick, imagining how it could possibly fit between her lips, wondering how his cum would taste slipping down her throat.
It was a fantasy that had always made her wild. She had many fantasies that made her horny. Gloria didn't really know how her obsession with cocksucking began, but she'd craved the taste of a big, juicy cock after reading Victorian smut. In those novels, men always wore tight pants where an erection was easy to spot, even by old, old women with failing eyesight.
But now it was her own son's cock that she longed to suck. Robert was a big, strapping man, barrel chested, and he was never going to be married. It was a shame to let his tool go to waste, for the only adoration it received was due to his loud morning masturbation. He stared at the ceiling imagining God knows what, and then he'd shoot white ropes of cum 3 feet into the air. Gloria heard him moaning and was prepared to give him clean sheets every day.
Robert rarely dressed when he watched TV. He wore only jockey shorts and a t-shirt. . His major drawback, besides being very naïve, is that he trusted in the inherent goodness of women. He thought all women were saintly and virtuous. True, he had a club-sized cock, and he attributed any wet dreams he had to lack of exercise. He never masturbated because the thought of self abuse was horrifying. Gloria was proud of her son. She admired his toned body and hugged him to her every chance she got. The sight of his very impressive cock bobbing around under his cargo pants often sent Gloria hurrying to her bedroom for a long, frustrating interlude with her fingers.
At the moment, we find him in the day room at the other end of the hall, watching an NFL game in his underwear. Gloria had taken one glimpse at his cock tenting his jockey shorts and realized she needed an immediate playback with her pussy. Her clothes were strewn about the bedroom, and she'd already cum twice visualizing her son's shaft.
She had even tried constructing a dildo out of an industrial sized flashlight, the kind the Red Cross used to find flood victims. That didn't work. She needed the real thing.
Gloria rose quickly, her big tits quivering as she crossed the bedroom to the closet. She chose the sheerest negligee she had. The pale blue fabric was completely transparent, exposing the fat, red nipples of her heavy tits and the thick triangle of her dark pubic hair. Her legs were bare, and the hem of the negligee barely reached the milky white cheeks of her plump semiglobes. Robert had never seen her in such a revealing outfit. Well, it wasn't really an outfit, it was more like a gossamer illusion. Gloria's excitement mounted as she tip-toed with determination out of her bedroom down to where her son was watching TV.
She had to suck his cock now -- the moment of truth. The sight of his fat shaft bulging through his shorts made something snap inside her. She was ready for the fray.
Chapter 2
"Hello, Robert," Gloria chirped, sounding everyday casual, sitting on the couch beside him. "What' playing? Is it good?''
"It's okay;" Robert mumbled.
Robert did a double take when he saw what his mother was wearing. His eyes watered and itched. Between her massive boobs, her long, naked legs, coupled with the dark bush visible through her negligee, well, it was a one-two punch that would have floored Rocky Balboa. He got red in the face, and politely averted his eyes back to the TV. He forgot which teams were playing.
When Gloria saw his reaction, his raspy breathing, she knew she had gotten to him. She noticed Robert's tool stiffening in his shorts.
"Well, how about filling me in? Who's playing? It is football, isn't it?"
Robert didn't answer. Just as Gloria had hoped, he couldn't take his eyes off her body. Deliberately, she turned sideways on the couch to face him, lifting one long leg and placing her heel carefully on the cushions. Her thighs opened; she knew she was giving her son a perfect view of her hairy grotto.
"I . . . I'm not sure," Robert stammered nervously. All he knew was, it wasn't basketball.
"You're not sure, and you've been watching the game?" Gloria feigned surprise. "Why are you staring at my body like that? Can't I even wear a negligee around my own son? You're staring right at my privates!"
"I'm -- I'm sorry," Robert blurted.
"Oh, Robert," Gloria said breathlessly. In spite of herself she gasped as she allowed her eyes to drop to his crotch. "Good Lord, look at the size of your thing!"
His massive cock had grown as hard as iron, bulging obscenely through his shorts, the fat, bulbous knob trying to puncture the cotton. It was the first time Gloria had seen her son with a mind-boggling erection; she was amazed by the length and girth of his member.
