Sheila Verona stood in front of her kitchen sink staring blankly out the small window above it. She was under a tremendous amount of stress at this time and it was beginning to show in the relationships with her family and friends.
She was short with everyone it seemed anymore and she couldn't control her outbursts. Her Husband Victor had left months ago, her son's friends no longer came around to visit him nor did any of Sheila's old friends.
It was money, as it always seemed to be; Victor had lost his job at the local plant and things went downhill rapidly. She didn't know now where the money would come from to pay the bills and she didn't make enough herself to meet them.
She had a terrible fight with her son that morning about his going to stay with a friend that next weekend when so much needed done around the house. Things had become heated and there were terrible words exchanged between the two.
Sheila had said things to her son she now regretted and wished she could take back. She grabbed the checkbook from the counter and walked over to the table seating herself in one of the chairs. She would again try to see if she couldn't juggle things around enough to catch the light bill up before they shut her power off.
Sheila was thirty-five now but didn't look near her age, she had long luxurious dark hair and deep gray eyes. Her breasts were a little too large for her petite frame but not outlandishly so, and they were still firm and high.
She had great legs that ran up to a pair of beautifully curved hips that flowed into a nicely shaped thin waist. She had a beautiful ass and very shapely lips that enhanced a beautiful olive toned face.
As she sat refiguring her balance she was in contention with a splitting headache that never seemed to end lately. She sensed rather than consciously heard her son Douglas enter the kitchen area as she manipulated her scant account.
Douglas swung the appliance door open and reached in for the jug of ice water his mother always kept there and grabbed a glass from the overhead cupboard. Douglas filled his glass and leaving it there turned to place the glass container back in the refrigerator when it slipped from his hand and shattered on the floor.
Sheila was startled badly by the exploding sound of the near carnage and jumped up from her chair spinning around to find the scene of the crisis. She stood their, her nerves already unraveled by other distractions and as she surveyed the broken glass and water on the floor she began to cry.
"You stupid little bastard, do you think all I have to do in my life is clean up after your idiotic misfortunes," she screamed as the tears flowed freely down her cheeks.
Her loud complaint caught her son off guard; he was shocked and then angered.
"If you hadn't driven my father away with your constant complaining I wouldn't be a bastard now would I, you cheap Spanish whore," he spat back in retaliation.
"What ... what did you call me you little shit," she screamed at him as she advanced on him.
Sheila slapped her son across the face the sound of the hard impact reverberating through out the space of the room.
"No bitch, not this time," he yelled at her.
He slapped her back and his five foot-eleven inch frame knocked his smaller opponent to her knees. She was dazed, but as she regained her senses she was filled with a fierce anger and rose quickly to her feet.
Sheila leapt like a lioness taking prey, her strong sharp nails peeling the flesh at the side of his face where blood sprang to the surface immediately.
Douglas grabbed the front of her frilly blouse and slapped her face hard once more. The force of his blow against the firm grip of her blouse ripped the front of his mothers blouse wide open.
There before his eyes were two perfectly formed olive toned globes of flesh beautifully shaped with full stiff nipples. Sheila grabbed the shredded garment and tried pulling it together to hide her nakedness from her sons' eyes.
"Oh no you don't whore," he growled as he grabbed both hands and moved them away.
He wanted to humiliate her, here in her own home, for her hateful behavior toward everyone around her including himself. He slapped her again with less force this time and noticed the beautiful fire in her eyes, the evident self-righteous anger she was feeling.
"You have beautiful breasts mother, how about letting me lick them for you and alleviate a little of that sexual tension," he told her, his grin evil and menacing.
"Are you loco or just stupid Douglas, I am your mother," she offered weakly.
Douglas leaned his larger frame into his mothers' body and backed her roughly up against the table. He ripped her blouse completely off her body and then reaching down he ripped off her loose flimsy skirt as well.
"You fucking bastard get away from me, if you touch me I'll put you away somewhere I swear to God Douglas," she screamed at him, still crying as she spoke.
She stood there with nothing to do about it, exposed in her panties only, before the hungry ravenous eyes of her angry son. He pinned both her wrist behind her and moved his mouth to her nipple as she tried to avoid contact there.
"Please Doug, don't do this to me ... please," she begged him!
But as his hot mouth covered her nipple to devour her sweet flesh there, a lightening bolt of pure unmitigated pleasure seared its way along her consciousness exploding in heat between her legs that made her flesh go dewy.
"Please don't, please ... please Doug, my God I'm your mom," she pleaded with tears.
But in spite of her words her body wanted his tongue on it, wanted his hands between her legs touching her. She hated herself at that moment as she realized he was going to fuck her and she would likely orgasm beneath him.
"I hate you ... do you hear me bastard ... I said I hate your fucking ass," she screamed.
Doug looked his mother dead in the eye ... his own now cold, dead, uncaring things. His fingers vised down on her nipple and squeezed with all the power in his young body. She closed her eyes and screamed as her body trembled deeply with the pain of his abuse.
When he let go she opened her eyes and he found a storm of sorrow and pain there as he held them with his own. He pressed her lips with his and found no response at first but when he slipped his tongue into her mouth he thought he felt her part them just a little.
While he explored everything in her mouth his hand dropped and found its way between her legs. His young fingers slipped inside her panties and opened her cavern finding the firmness of her clit. He wooed her as they kissed, and gently, with ease of touch, he sat about the seduction of her will.
She was moist, but he couldn't yet tell if she wanted him, she was not struggling as fiercely now and he enjoyed very much the warmth of her mouth. He broke the kiss and his mouth went immediately to his mother's breast again where he pulled into his mouth one large erect nipple. She shivered as his hot member caressed the hard little rose of her breast and small waves of warm pleasure moved across the surface of her vulva.
Sheila considered another protest but decided against it she knew he wouldn't stop now not until his hot seed seared the inside of her passage and his cock lurched in spasms inside her.
She felt the warmth of his mouth on her smooth skin making her wet down below. Her need was rising and everything he did felt good to her hungry body. She hadn't had male companionship for some time now and she hadn't realized until now how much she had missed it. She hated him for taking her this way but there was nothing she could do.
Doug shoved his mother roughly down on the kitchen table and ripped the thin panties from her body. Then parted her legs and kneeling he put his face directly in front of her cunt. His tongue darted out and swiped the dark cavern of her sweet mysteries. Her body jerked sharply in response to his touch, as her son began to eat her out.
"I hate you Doug ... you bastard," she whispered lamely.
He didn't care, his cock was raging between his legs and if it was the last thing on earth he accomplished, he was going to bring his mother to a resounding orgasm. He used his member skillfully against the warm wet tissue of his mother's pussy inserting it as deeply as he could between the swollen lips of her labia.
The very next time he lashed her clit she moaned pitifully and her hips rose to meet his tongue. Her hands were now stroking the thick dark hair of his head and she was beginning to moan softly.
Sheila was moving quickly to bliss in spite of her minds protest her body intended to have its way and obtain reprieve from its frustration. Doug stopped and raised himself to his feet, from the cast of her face he knew she was in stress to release.
He lowered his lips to hers and she received him with due gentleness this time and readily made room for his seeking tongue. His hard thick cock was resting in her crevice directly over her firm clit.
As his tongue probed her mouth his cock ground against her folds producing some of the most beautiful sensations she could ever remember experiencing. They exploded in her brain and body one after the other, until she thought she might pass out from the firestorm of pleasure.
