Not a Helping Hand

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.

"My God, you've got an enormous hard-on! Do you mean to tell me that looking at your own mother's pussy made your cock get so stiff? Can't you control your emotions?"

"I . . . I can't help it," stammered the red faced college student. "I've never -- you know, seen you almost wearing something like that."

"Why, Robert. What a shocking thing to say!

Almost

wearing?????"

But by then Gloria's palpitating pussy was throbbing so hard that it seemed to drown out her heartbeat. Her creamy lubrication was drizzling out of her gash, making her inner thighs slippery and wet. Hypnotized by her son's giant tent pole, the cock-crazy mother slid off the couch and knelt worshipping in front of her son. The odor of cunt began to permeate the day room.

"I'm going to slip off your underwear, Robert," she whispered huskily. "Maybe if I can see the swelling, I can relieve it ..."

Robert did nothing to resist as she carefully peeled his jockey shorts down his legs and off' his feet, leaving him almost naked. His cock immediately pulsed up stiffly, twitching and jerking luridly over his stomach. Gloria almost climaxed without touching herself.

Never had she laid eyes on such a magnificent prick. It was both extremely long and very thick, at least as thick around as her wrist. Hungrily she stared at the wrinkled, furry sac containing his huge balls, and then ogled the Dorsal vein traversing the underside of his cock. His prick knob was as big as a small apple, the skin shiny and crimson with its engorgement of blood. Before her eyes, his glistening shaft throbbed uncontrollably up and down, with drops of pre-cum oozing from his piss slit.

His panting mother wrapped her hand around the root of his cock. It was so thick that she couldn't close her fingers around it. "Doesn't it hurt when it gets this big?"

Robert was too tongue-tied to speak. Slowly, his mother began jacking his over-sized affair, milking his cockshaft, using her fist action to make more pre-cum bubble out of the piss slit.

"Look, Robert Your cock is leaking. Does it feel good when I play with your prick? Would you like me to do it harder?" Her fingers were busy as it were.

"Yeah!" Robert gulped. Dazed, he stared down at his mother, while he sat helplessly on the couch.

Gloria began beating his prick much harder, her soft hand moving in a blur up and down the stiffness of his affair. Incredibly, his cock swelled more, so much lube oozing out that it began to trickle down his shaft.

"Oh, Mom! I can't believe you're doing this!"

"I think what you really need is a cleansing blowjob. Flush it out ..." Gloria murmured. "But you have to promise not to tell anyone. Then I can suction your prick for you just as often as you like. "

"Ummmmm ..."

Unable to control her cock craving any longer, Gloria dropped her head to her son's crotch. She made a perfect oval with her lips, and literally inhaled her son's cock. Her lips clamped tightly around his veined cock shaft.

Gloria had a wild imagination. She imagined herself giving a class demonstration to her evening class of frustrated housewives. It was female sexuality, and the class was titled the Art of Cocksucking. Well, not really, it was Fellatio 101, but in her mind it was essentially giving blowjobs. She pictured the women, panty-less, fingering themselves, groaning in lust. Some were shaved, some were very hairy, but all of them were vigorously fingering themselves as she continued her demo. She planned to transition onto the g-spot and have these women squirting. Sure, the janitor always complained about the mess they made, but screw him.

She started sucking, hollowing her cheeks to increase the vacuum pressure around her son's magnificent plunger. Up and down, her head bobbed, eagerly fucking her face on Robert's fine cock. Robert curled his fingers in her thick hair, holding his mother's head steady in his crotch, as she suctioned away.

"Harder, Mom!" he gasped. His eyes glazed over as he looked down at the obscene spectacle of his mother, making grotesque noises with her lips.

"Jesus, that feels great!"

Gloria was in seventh heaven, transported by the taste, size and fullness of her son's enormous truncheon. For years she'd dreamed of doing this, of yielding to the nagging desire to blow her son. If he let her, she'd suck him day and night.

Now she increased the tempo, nearly choking, as she attempted to deep throat his cock. It was too big.

Pumping it faster, Gloria's fist was a blur as she whipped it up and down his throbbing prick. She knew he'd come fast and then she could fondle and play with it until he got hard again. She'd read about sexual prodigies who could come 8 times an hour.

Robert winced as the cum load rumbled deep from inside his huge balls. He humped his ass eagerly off the couch. "You're going to make me come, Mom! Unnggghh!!"

Her left hand moved between his quivering thighs, seeking out his jewels. The ball sac felt very heavy as she cradled it in her fingers.

"Mom, I'm coming now!" Robert cried. He arched his hips off the couch, again nearly choking his mother as he crammed another inch of his tool down her throat.

The torrent of cum bubbled up from her son's balls, building up pressure, as it spewed out thick, salty ropes of white stuff. Gloria nearly came without touching herself as his sperm load swizzled across her tongue.

"Christ!" Robert sprawled panting on the couch, his pulsing prick still beating stiffly over his stomach. "I can't believe you did that!"

Gloria stared transfixed at her son's saliva coated cock as she wiped the stray drops of spunk from her mouth. If it were a perfect world, Robert would have licked her pussy. But typically men who are worldly know how to eat pussy. At this stage in his life, he was absorbed only blowing his trumpet.

I'm nothing but a horny cocksucker, Gloria thought, as she quickly rose from her knees in front of the couch. Had she so sunk to the depths of depravity? Maybe so, but she was so hungry for the taste of cum that she simply had to suck it again. Gloria wrapped her fist around his hard, cum-slicked cock and started jacking it slowly at first, then as it got hard again, she did it faster. That generated more precum, and Gloria swooped her head down to lick it up. The licking turned to sucking as she opened her mouth wide, and crammed Robert's tool back down her gullet.

What do you say when your mother is trilling your cock? He said nothing.

Her eyes were tightly closed, and she was already savoring the taste of her son's magnificent prick. She wrapped her lips tightly around the shaft, swigging and slurping, sliding her full tongue around the beet red head to lap up his oozing spunk.

"Oh, Mom! You're gonna make me come again!" Robert gasped. He clutched her head and humped his hips off the couch. "Unngggh! Suck harder!"

Gloria sucked his tasty fucker as hard as she could. Her tongue glided through the narrow trough made by his piss slit, encouraging a rivulet of spunk to trickle out. Her fist jacked his huge prick harder than ever, again moving in a blur on the swollen shaft.

"Here it comes, Mom!" The second load of cum exploded up from his balls, rocketing onto the roof of her mouth and then dribbling down her throat. Gloria's pussy throbbed as she gargled his second load. She was sucking and jacking furiously, nursing on his cock until she'd finally drained the delicious load of cum from his balls.

"Shit, Mom!" Robert slouched on the couch, exhausted. "Where did you learn to do that?"

Gloria wasn't in the mood for a conversation, she just wanted to indulge herself, again feeding hungrily on her son's incredible prick. She wondered if her sucking off Robert was really so unusual. There must be thousands of mothers giving their sons blowjobs. Motherly love was based on oral love. Gloria didn't care much for fucking her son; sucking his cock is what got her off.

Gloria's closest friend, June, had a son around Robert's age. Had she done anything with her son yet? Not June, surely. She was a saint, very much given to helping the homeless. She spent more time at the shelter than she did at home. She was a deaconess at church. She taught Bible study. Even though June had a voluptuous figure, it didn't appear to impact her work with charities. She was an attorney, a public defender.

June's son, Paul, thought he was God's gift to women. Paul was a sheet metal worker. That is, when he was working. He was in his thirties, still unmarried. He drank until he passed out, and often spent the night in a holding cell. He was good looking in a crude sort of way, and always appeared flushed from high blood pressure. He'd be lucky if he reached 50.

June herself was a paragon of virtue. June was too straight laced for incest. It would take an awful lot of prodding to get June to mess around with her own son. She tied to bring Paul to church with her, but when Paul did go, he'd check out the good looking women. Paul understood he had a better chance of scoring in church than he did belching beer in a bar.

Chapter 3

"Paul, for God's sake! How dare you barge into my bedroom without knocking!" June squealed, as she raised the towel to her neck, attempting to cover her enormous boobs with the towel. Her virile, handsome son Paul stood just inside the bedroom door. There was no embarrassment in his face. Instead he was grinning, leering at his mother's body.

"Sorry, Mom," he shrugged. "I heard you showering, so I thought you'd be dressed by now."

"Well I'm obviously not dressed, am I? Now if you don't mind, would you please leave me alone long enough to make myself decent? I can't have you standing around watching me put my panties and bra on!"

But Paul didn't move. June's eyes moved down his muscular body, homing in on the blue polyester gym shorts that he had on. Paul had an enormous erection. The mushroom dome of his cock had slipped outside the gym shorts, throbbing visibly. Obviously he was in the bedroom for the sole purpose of seeing her naked. Ever since her divorce, June suspected her son had the hots for her.

She was ashamed to admit that she had feelings, sexual feelings, for him too. It had been so long since her husband had sex with her. He wasn't exactly a Don Juan. Her husband's idea of having sex was a 5-minute hump, and he'd roll over and go to sleep. What the hell, the guy was close to 60 years old and had zero smarts about a woman. She divorced him.

The idea of fucking her own son was clearly incest, but the plus side was, his cock was too big to ignore. She had wet dreams about fucking him, and some mornings she'd wake up with her fingers in her pussy and the bed wet.

"Well, Paul?" June blushed, waiting for him to leave. Holding the towel over her massive jugs, she nervously brushed the water from her short brown hair. "Paul, didn't you hear me? I asked you to leave so I can get dressed!"

Paul shrugged, still grinning at her. "What if I want to watch, Mom? C'mon, have a heart ..."

There was a long silence. Since he didn't have a father, Paul had no one to teach him to respect his mother. To him, she was just a woman with big boobs. She had to make a decision, either call the cops and have him arrested, or give in to his inappropriate demands. Regretfully she chose the latter.

June realized that she was about to cross a bridge into sexual perversion, which was a harsh word to describe having her needs met. So what if it was son's cock? She had to loosen up, she rationalized. She knew Paul would have left if she'd ordered him out. But she wasn't going to. There was nothing wrong with nudity -- it wasn't dirty -- and it was all within the family.

"All right, Paul," she said, as casually as possible. "If you really insist on being stubborn about it, I suppose I'll just have to let you stay ..." She was a feast for the eyes, as they say, and her few stretch marks had long disappeared.

June let the towel drop to the floor, and she felt flattered at the sound of her son's sharp intake of breath. It was the first time he'd seen her naked.

Her tits were very, very large. June had been embarrassed by the size of her breasts, but then her ex-husband had shown her, through hours of prolonged nipple sucking, how much men love big tits. He taught her how to climax with just her nipples. Since then, June devised ways to get herself off -- from using vegetables, to rubbing up against the bed post. She wasn't an exhibitionist, but she was pleased by the whistles and catcalls her massive boobs drew on the street. A few times, she had gone shopping without a bra, just to see men go wild over her boobs, bouncing and quivering under her sweater.