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.
He stared back at me. "Yes, Mommy," he panted.
Emboldened, I slapped his buttocks and ordered, "Mommy wants you to cum -- NOW!"
It was as if I had somehow reached inside of him and taken control of something. His body went limp, but his cock grew even harder and larger inside me. Suddenly, it pulsed and he began shooting heavy loads of cum into my pussy. It reached the point where his cum backed up, spurt out against his hips and thighs, and began running in thick rivulets down his legs.
He looked down in amazement at where our crotches met, as if he had no control over what was happening. When he had finished cumming, he collapsed against my breasts. "Mrs. Henry," he panted. "That was incredible. Thank you so much."
I was stunned at how much he ejaculated. "Do you always cum so much?" I asked.
"No, M'am," he said. "I've never been so hard or squirted so much in my life."
I hugged him to my chest. "Don't go calling me Mrs. Henry," I said. "When we're alone, you call me Mommy or Momma."
He looked up at me from my breasts like a little boy. "Yes, Mommy," he said with a big smile.
I could feel his cock getting hard again. But that was enough sex today. As much as my old self would have enjoyed it, the new Mommy Henry wanted to think about what had just happened.
CHAPTER TWO
In the months that followed, the Little Guy and I spent every Saturday together. We really did develop a kind of Mommy-Son relationship, albeit a little kinky.
He would arrive in the morning. I would give him a big braless hug, kiss him on the cheek, and hand him a long list of chores. When was finished, he would run in to the kitchen and yell, "All done, Mommy."
I'd tell him how proud I was of my Son and that it was time for his reward. We'd go up to my bathroom. I'd have him take a shower. I'd stay dressed, stand outside the tub, and wash his body, with a special emphasis on his cock, making sure he was rock hard.
We'd go to the bedroom. I would put on a nightgown and sit on the side of the bed. I'd unbutton the top and let him feel and suck Mommy's breasts. When he had his fill, I'd pick up the bottom of the nightgown, spread my legs and let him fuck Mommy's pussy. When he couldn't hold back any more, I would let him cum one huge load after another until my pussy overflowed.
I wondered how he developed his Mommy Fetish. It turned out to be very simple. He told me that had always been attracted to women with large breasts. After he graduated high school and moved out of the house, he lived alone. He quickly discovered pictures on the Internet of big-titted women. He began to regularly masturbate while fantasizing about sucking and fucking all those titties. During one particularly long jerk off session, he unexpectedly called the woman "Mommy" out loud. He was surprised at how intensely hard he became and how much he ejaculated. From then on, every time he jerked off, he fantasized about an older woman with big tits being his Mommy and him being her Son.
He started dating a girl his age with nice sized breasts. To his surprise, he couldn't cum unless he could call her Mommy. When he told her about it, she laughed him out of bed. The same thing happened with two other girls. He didn't know what to do. Then he met me.
My relationship with the Little Guy began to open my eyes to what I call Mommy Power. Once I knew the Little Guy was hooked on me, I began exploring what I could do with it. Instead of letting him fuck me on the edge of the bed, I would take him to the couch in the living room. I would unbutton the top of my nightgown. He would rest his head on my lap, suck Mommy's breasts, and Mommy would jerk him off. He would cum buckets as usual.
One Saturday he finally asked, "Mommy, are we ever going to have regular sex again?"
I looked at him forlornly and said, "Only on very, very special occasions, baby. If you have sex with Mommy too much, then we can't be Mommy and Son. We'd be girlfriend and boyfriend. You wouldn't want that, would you?"