CHAPTER ONE
It all began so randomly.
"Mrs. Henry," the Little Guy called. "I'm done."
I bounced out the back door. I was wearing a t-shirt, jeans skirt, cowboy boots, and no bra or underwear. Walking across the yard, my big breasts bounced all over the place. The brisk April air made my nipples particularly long and hard.
The Little Guy was standing proudly by the fence that separated the yard from the fields. A section had fallen down during the winter and I had hired him to fix it. I call him the Little Guy because he was 21, skinny and a little short compared to me. I'm tall, a little over six feet.
He had done a good job. I told him to come to the house and I'd pay him.
"Sure," he said, his eyes fixed on my breasts. The few times we were together, I had noticed him sneaking looks at my chest, but not like today. Must have been the fact that I was braless and so nippy.
By the time we got to the house, the bulge in his pants told me he had a raging hard on. I got out the $50 to pay him, but then something came over me. Something mischievous.
"Instead of me giving you this money," I said, "how about I let you suck my big titties and fuck me?"
The Little Guy was incredulous. "Y-yeah," he stammered. "That'd be great, Mrs. Henry."
I had never propositioned a guy like that. But, then, I guess, I was living a new life. Let me explain...
I got married to the late, great Mr. James Henry more than 30 years ago. I was 19 and still a virgin. Because of my figure, my parents had really kept me under lock and key. He was 55 -- strong, handsome and rugged. He had never married and owned a big farm. And he was my way out of poverty.
I didn't realize it at first, but he was kind of kinky. During sex, he called me his baby or daughter and had me call him Daddy. He always liked to be in the dominant position, on top of me or from behind, fucking me in either my pussy or ass. It got him super hard and excited.
We had a big poster bed. The mattress stood about hip high. I would stand on the floor, face the bed, lean forward on the mattress, and push up my ass toward him. He would get behind me, tear off my bra and panties, and grind his big cock in and out of my anus and pull on my nipples like he was milking one of the cows.
"Daddy can't help it baby," he would pant with guilty shame. "I just have to fuck you."
"That's OK, Daddy," I would tell him sweetly. "I'm your baby girl. My tits and ass belong to you!"
After 15 or 20 minutes of fucking and milking me like that, his cock would explode. He filled my ass or pussy with so much semen it would leak down the back of my legs. I would quiver in a series of intense orgasms.
It was fun and he was good to me. We had two sons, who have since grown up, moved away, and got married. Unfortunately, three years ago James Henry became ill. A year ago he died. I spent the last 12 months in mourning.
Now, for the first time since I was a teenager, the only person I had to think about was me. And all I wanted to do was have some fun.
I took the Little Guy upstairs to my bedroom. He tore off his clothes. His cock snapped up in full erection. I was impressed at how big it was. I sat on the side of the poster bed, facing him, and spread my legs.
"Aren't you going to take off your clothes?" he asked.
"For $50, all you're getting is a quickie," I told him.
He pushed up my t-shirt to squeeze my breasts and suck my nipples as he rubbed his cockhead against my pussy lips. Then he lifted his head from my chest, held my hips, and eased his cock inside. It felt good to feel a big thick penis rub against my clitoris. I was surprised at how quickly I got wet.
Suddenly, his erection began to wither. A perturbed look came over his face. He reminded me of my sons when they were little. "What's wrong?" I asked.
He was reluctant to talk, but finally said, "This is going to sound strange..."
"Yeah," I said, not knowing what to expect.
After a long moment of silence, he finally asked, "Can I call you Mommy?"
"Why would you want to do that?" I chuckled. "Do you want me to diaper you?"
"No, no," he protested. "I need to call you Mommy and I need you to call me your Son. It's the only way I can cum, Mrs. Henry."
Why not, I figured. My husband liked to be Daddy. I could be the Little Guy's Momma.
"Sure," I said as I caressed his cheek.
"Thank you...Mommy," he said.
As soon as he said it, he became crazy with excitement for me. His cock swelled harder and larger. He pawed and sucked my breasts with wild abandon. He pumped his cock in and out of my pussy with newfound energy. I could literally feel his expanding girth ripple against my clitoris.
He kept saying things like, "Mommy, I love you. Mommy, I need your nipples. Mommy, you make me so hard." He said it so lovingly, so passionately, I found myself saying things back to encourage him. "Mommy loves her Son. Mommy's breasts are for you. Mommy needs her Son to cum."
I held my legs apart as wide as I could. I was going to have an incredibly powerful orgasm. But as good as that would have felt, I realized I didn't want to cum. The last thing in the world I wanted was to become dependent on somebody again.
No. I wanted to be in charge. I wanted to call the shots. In or out of bed.
I gathered up all my inner strength, regained control of my body, and stopped myself from cumming. It wasn't easy. It felt like I was tearing myself apart from the inside. But when I surmounted my orgasm, I felt fantastic. I was filled with a new kind of sexual power -- nothing like I had ever experienced before.
I had to put it to the test. I pulled the Little Guy's face up from my breasts. My nipples were big and puffy, dripping with saliva. I held his cheeks in both hands and looked directly into his eyes. "Mommy wants you to cum," I said firmly.