Jackson Robard - The cub-scout mother

Gary drank, sputtering a little at first and then getting the hang of letting it slide down slowly. Jesus! His first drink. After the first few sips it tasted good, warm and comforting.

The television still glowed with brightly shifting images in brilliant color, a kaleidoscope of changing patterns. Gary could see it over his mother's shoulder. It made a kind of radiating halo behind her curly head. He didn't know how long they'd been drinking now but they were both feeling better. She still sat by him on the couch; he could feel the warmth of her thigh against his hip. They'd talked it all out… over and over. How Wanda was trying to break up their home, how cruel and unthinking his father was, but how terrible it would be to let their home and their family disintegrate. But, they were just not going to let that happen… no matter what. He'd never realized before how really great his mom could be. She was beautiful too, the soft colored light behind her, the thin jersey robe molding her breasts. The nipples were clearly visible under the clinging fabric…

"Don't you worry, baby… Mother won't let anything happen to us… s'a promise." Bette Jean patted Gary's hard young thigh reassuringly. There was a bulge under his robe that pressed against her arm as she did. His thing. Still hard just like when he was a baby. Every time she'd changed his diaper he'd always had a tiny erection, his little thing sticking up like a tiny flagpole. She felt a rush of love for this beautiful boy who was growing up now, the penis grown to man proportions. She felt it jerk and throb under her arm. What agony that Wanda must have put him through. She patted him again, her hand sliding and patting across his lap as she brought it up to steady her drink and drain it.

"Ohhhh, Mom…" he breathed. The blood was beating in his cock something fierce. God her hand felt good patting him like that. He knew she didn't mean anything by it but he wished she wouldn't stop. "You've been so good to me." He sat up dazedly, his head swimming a little and leaned over to kiss her soft cheek. She smelled like lemons and gardenias and brandy. Funny he'd never noticed before how soft her skin was, how beautiful and young she was.

Bette Jean felt Gary's kiss on her cheek. Such a sweet boy. So brave and never running around and leaving her like most boys did. His young lips were warm and full and kindled something deep inside her breasts. Her glass fell to the floor empty and made a little soft thud on the deep carpet.

Without thinking Bette Jean turned her head and kissed him back on those young lips. Such a good boy. He was going to be all right now. The brandy had calmed him down. Maybe they'd even had too much. Her head didn't ache anymore but things kept shifting out of focus. Suddenly she felt Gary's arms go around her, pulling her close to his hard young chest. She patted his shoulders and marveled at their strength.

Gary gathered his mother in his arms when she turned her head to be kissed on the mouth. A thrill shot through him as he felt her soft yielding body so close against him, the full breasts crushed against him. What a truly beautiful woman… warm and understanding and kind. Lucky… that's what he was… lucky. She wouldn't tease him the way Wanda would. She'd just love him the way she always had. He felt her shudder, her mouth trembling under his. Instinctively he kissed her harder, his lips bruising and demanding. God, it was good to hold her like this.

Bette Jean pulled away, the breath coming out in little pants. She had to get her breath. There were funny streaks of fire shooting through her breasts and her pussy was tightening and drawing inward. It felt so good, so right, so exciting. As she pulled back to look blearily into his eyes, Gary's hard young palm inadvertently caught her breast and the fires there flamed higher, warming her.

Gary felt the soft globe, hot and full in his palm. She was truly a beautiful woman. His fingers dug into the resilient firmly ripe flesh, covered with the thin silky fabric. The nipple was hard and erect, poking into his hand in a fiery little point.

"You're so beautiful… so good to me… Ohhh, Mom…"

Catching his hand with her own, Bette Jean pressed the young male hand closer on her beating breast. As a baby he'd patted and played with her breasts while he nursed, kneading and loving them. Ohh, it was so lovely. She longed to hold his head there again. Her last baby. There'd never be any more. Nursing had always been such a joy, particularly nursing Gary, who loved it so. Without thinking, transported by the memory of his baby head nestled there, Bette Jean pulled the offending robe from her breasts and caught his dark young head to her flesh, giving him the nipple in his strong young mouth. She dimly heard him gurgle as he took it and began to suck. The flames rose in her flesh like a raging forest fire, burning brighter and brighter.

Gary felt the nipple, hard and quivering against the roof of his mouth. He sucked deeply as though nourishment would come pouring out. Oh God! Some deep instinct guided his sucking, his lips and teeth making strong sucking action while his tongue laved the tiny sensitive nib.

Bette Jean rocked slightly, feeling the warm head nestled and the mouth sucking so intently and seriously. Then she felt his hands begin to knead and pinch her other breast, cupping and squeezing and pinching and nipple painfully, but unintentionally. The familiar drawing-in sensation began in her womb and then her whole pussy was convulsing rhythmically.

Ravenously Gary moved to the other breast, catching the nipple and drawing it out even further with his teeth. He heard a muffled cry choke from her throat. His hands were caressing the perfect white flesh naked and shivering, while his mouth drew out the heady nectar in deep sucking. She was shaking and rocking, clutching his mouth deeper and deeper into the fragrant female flesh. He wanted to devour the whole of the sensuously desirable femininity. His mouth nibbled upward to the white column of her throat while his hands cajoled the naked spheres until he reached her mouth and his tongue shot into the warmly wet cavern. He could almost feel the moist grotto surrounding his cock as he tongue fucked greedily into her mouth. For a moment the shifting lights in his head cleared, the swimming ceased and he jerked away in horror. Christ all mighty… he was kissing his own mother like she was a girl… a girl he wanted to fuck. His cock was rigid and quaking, seeping eagerly against his skin under his robe! Oh God… what was happening to him?

"Ohhhhhh… Gary… baby…" he heard his mother sigh as she slipped limply down beside him on the couch, unheeding that her robe was off her shoulders now, her breasts and upper body naked against him. She pressed closer, her hand sliding over him in tender caresses, coming to rest against the poling bulge of his robe covered penis that strutted up wildly, at the touch of her hand. She was drunk… crazy insane drunk… they both were. They must be. His own mother putting his mouth on her naked breast, kissing him. Oh Jesus! It was wrong, horribly, hideously wrong… but it felt so… ooooohhhhh God damn!

"Oh… Mom… Oh God… I didn't mean… Oh, I can't help it… this is killing me… help me… my cock… it's on fire… help me… I want to fuck you… got to fuck you or I'll die…"

"Shhhh… it's all right, darling… Mother'll help you… poor baby… poor little baby…" Her tongue felt thick and too large in her mouth. Something was wrong with her breathing and she felt hot and stifled. She fumbled and found the sash that held the robe around her waist. There… better to get that hot thing off. She turned back to cuddle Gary. He was feverish and hot too. Her hands slid under the flannel robe and pulled it away. She found the cause of his misery… die, he said… well, no wonder… his penis was so swollen and hard and pulsing. He said had to fuck. But that's what Lester does. Hurts me. Makes my head ache. Poor, poor baby. She could hear him groaning and carrying on. Feverish and hot and hurting… Her hands soothed the risen stalk of his young manhood, all corded and jerking with need… Well, Mother would kiss it and make it well again. There… and there… and there… be better in no time, sweetheart…