Jimmy Takes Mom After Breakfast!
Having been broken in by a sexpert trainer in the previous episodes, Jimmy gets cajoled into sex with his mother by the sex therapist! James and his mother struggle through breakfast the following morning with a frank conversation of the aftermath concerning their relationship the previous afternoon. Everyone is an adult and a willing participant in this fantasy.
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Becoming eighteen-years-old, four months ago, was turning into a difficult time period in my life. My Dad was riding my butt more often now about acting more like an adult. Meaning that I should start taking on some responsibilities rather than being catered to 'like a twelve-year-old' as he more frequently phrased it. Mom had that 'pushing the nestling out of the nest thing' going on as well. 'Found a girl for the dance, Jimmy?' or 'That sweet girl I saw you talking to at the bus stop seems to like you, Jimmy. Why don't you ask her out?' 'Hear that the Home Depot is looking for part-time help. Could lead to a full-time job you know.' That kind of crap seemed to be poking my ribs lately. It was particularly so with Mom. I guess it was leading up to maelstrom event earlier today. It was like a story you hear about in the news of some guy, minding his own business at a bus stop -- when, wham, he gets creamed by some drunk driver plowing him under the cab of his eighteen-wheeler. The poor guy never sees it coming! I was like that guy. It sure seems like Mom got tired of waiting and took matters into her own hands. So, what the fuck just happened?
My day had started out pretty much like most other school days. It started with Mom's habitual banging on my door. I thought the banging was to get my lazy butt out of bed and get ready for school, but no, that wasn't how the day got laid out for me! However, I did get laid! Three times by my count before Dad got home from work! Now at day's end, I flopped down onto my bed, pretty much physically and emotionally spent. I rolled onto my back and stared up at the popcorn ceiling. 'Zit ceiling' it should have been named; that's what it looked like -- though, not the same color.
'What the fuck happened, today?' Those words just seemed to float around in my mind looking for answers to the question. Nothing seemed to make sense about the day's events.
Earlier, I had excused myself from the dinner table. Guilt seemed to be seeping out of my pores and I was sure it smelled like my Mom's vaginal secretions and, perhaps, some of Goldie's sex juices too. I expected Dad to turn to me at any second and ask if I enjoyed fucking my Mother's ass. So I give Dad a lame-assed excuse that I had to study for the now delayed chemistry test. It was getting hard to sit next to him and act as though I hadn't just had sex with my own mother as he was driving home with pizza for dinner. Headed down the hallway, that's when I caught Mom's remark to Dad about volunteering to shovel the neighbor's walks. My Dad's sardonic remark about the hottie across the street and not saying anything about the fifty dollars, confirmed that Mother had pretty much set this whole thing up with Teresa Ann. She is the college chick that just moved in across the street. The magazine model image to whom I lost my virginity this afternoon.
It began with Mom cajoling my sleep laden body out bed early with a fifty-dollar bribe, then sugar coated it with getting an opportunity to meet the 'hottie' across the street, as Dad called her. Lying here, now, as I think about it; when-in-the-fuck-ever, does a naked woman press her pussy against her picture window while a stranger shovels her sidewalks? When-the-fuck-ever, does she unlock her front door, and tells him that if his mother has a tramp stamp that says 'insert here;' that his mother wants to fuck him also? Mom's comment to Dad, about me starting to grow up, was a real 'snow job' answer!
Starting to grow up? Really! My world just got turned upside down, so yeah, I guess you could say I was starting to grow up. After all, I went from being a bonified virgin to a cunt-fucker, ass-fucker, and mother-fucking ass-fucker all in the same afternoon! 'What the hell happened, today?' Well, I guess part of that answer is that I was just starting to grow up -- that's the best answer, maybe. But it sure as hell was a very confusing one!
Rolling over onto my side, I reached into my dresser drawer and took out one of the ornate, embossed business cards that Teresa Ann had given me as she slid my missing sock onto my dick. I could still hear her snickering about having at least one article of clothing on or risk catching cold as she coaxed it over my stiffening cock. I'd read the front of the card earlier, but now studying it again, I flipped it over.
The reverse side said: 'Board Certified Sexologist' -- 'Phallic Training -- Tantric Sex Certified -- Conjugal Fealty Training - Allosexual Determinate Assessment -- Other 'Sexpert' Services --
I stared at the card for a long time. Rereading it several times in fact. I may have just as well have read it once and let it go because no matter how many times I read the words, they held no meaning for me. It could just as well have been in Latin or Greek -- none of it made sense.
"What is Phallic Training?" I spit the unfamiliar word out as I read it.
"What the fuck is Tantric Sex?" I snorted, stumbling on how to pronounce it.
What the mother-fuck, fucking is that Allosaurus Determinate Assessment shit?" I was pissed at that point, thinking that Teresa Ann was claiming to be some kind of dinosaur trainer! That's when, on the second read, I realized it didn't have anything to do with dinosaurs -- I just misread the damned card! It actually said 'Allosexual.' Still that didn't mean a goddamned thing to me.
'Who the FUCK is Teresa Ann and what the shit is all this crap on her business card? She can't have a business -- she's just a college student!' I muttered to myself. I was mad. I was... pissed! Somebody owed me an answer for how I got played today. Not that I didn't like it, just that I... hell, never mind!' I wasn't even sure why I was mad at this point. I should be well pleased. After all, I got fucked, got fucked three times, even!
I should be reveling in the thought of getting back to school on Monday and telling this story of banging Goldie against the wall to the guys at school. It would have been one belly laughing lunchroom conversation with high fives all around! But that's not how I felt, lying here looking up at the popcorn zits on the ceiling in my bedroom. I'd also done my mom, on the kitchen table of all places! The same place I sit every day and watch Dad obliviously eating dinner next to a mother-fucker. That part certainly didn't seem like a topic for lunch with the guys.
Grabbing my laptop, I googled the terms -- Phallus -- dick. Okay she trains dicks; fancy word for that! Googling the rest of them just lead me down a deep rabbit hole into things that never in a million years would I have suspected that they existed. I mean how can someone want to 'not identify with a sex' or be known by a sex at all?
I rubbed my fingers across the letters letting the feel of the embossed card stimulate the tips of my fingers. I looked at the clock, 8:00 PM. Looking down, again, at the telephone number on the card, I weighed the discordant thoughts ruminating in my mind.
'Call her?' I mused. 'What if her mom answers? Just hang up on her? So, what if her mom called back? Say, 'I'm sorry, I dialed the wrong number.'
'Yeah, that works.' I heard the number ringing and ringing, but I didn't remember making the call -- some cosmic thing, I guess.
"Hello," a sultry-sounding voice answered, stunning me like a slap across the face. It's melodic tone froze my lips into silence as I soaked up all the nuances I could get out of that silky voice just saying 'hello.'
That voice dialed and connected into my mental image of Goldie earlier in the day. She had stood by the stairway, naked, poised like a goddess, so in control of all her surroundings. That demur smile of a blond haired, naked woman brushing the curly hair away from my eyes flashed before me. She had whispered, "Whatever you want to do; I am here for you, Snow-boy." I could feel her hand reach out and take my cock as though she already owned it. She already knew what I wanted. Hell, she plastered her hips against the icy picture window and splayed it open for me. She even smeared it across the glass like the trail of a snail, so slowly that I stopped breathing as I watched it flow across the glass! Her cunt is what I craved and she knew that not even knowing my name!
I couldn't get my own voice to answer that sexy voice's 'hello.' I had dialed without knowing what I wanted to say. Like a tongue-tied sap, I could only listen in silence. This was 'that' problem about being able to talk to girls that had kept me from asking one out -- and then getting into her panties.
Patiently, calmly her voice responded to my silence saying, "Caller, it's difficult to hold a one-way conversation. But as long as you aren't disrespectful in your silence, I'll wait until you have something to say... but if you don't answer soon, well... that would be disappointing." The lilt in her voice seemed to be teasing, trying to cajole an answer out of me. The silence between us seemed to be like shouting out to the mountains and waiting for the echo to return... hoping that the reply would be different than the words first sent across the canyon. Like a slow-motion film, my lips finally began to form a smattering of words.
"I, I was, I was afraid that your mother might answer," I finally managed to spew out a few words as my tongue seemed to thaw a bit.
