Curt Aldrich - Politician_s Teacher

"Oooh, my Godddd!" Bea breathed, as if in awe. "Scotty! You were wonderful!"

"Thanks, mom," he said casually, and got up, letting his wet, flaccid cock flop in front of her.

He had watched her screw so many times that he saw no reason to be ashamed of showing her his body or showing her what he liked to do with it.

Melanie knew her well, also, and likewise refused to be intimidated by her.

Bea turned and fled in nervous confusion, never saying what she had come to see Melanie about. Or perhaps she had just been checking to see whether Scotty was there. If so, her curiosity had been satisfied.

"Am I your guy from now on?" Scotty asked Melanie as he got dressed.

She bit her lip. "Well, I'm still your teacher, darling. We have to maintain that relationship."

"Sure. But after lessons… am I the one you're going to be with? Or," he added with a touch of bitterness, "are you going to keep on fucking dad?"

"I… I can't say."

"You mean, you like Dad better than me?" It was a tough question to answer, and Melanie averted her eyes. She really didn't like Linc, not as a person. But he thrilled her in bed. And he was going to be governor. That fact loomed larger and larger in her thinking.

Perhaps she was as self-seeking as be, she conjectured. The prestige of living in the governor's house, and the satisfaction of being his mistress, were too important to turn her back on.

Having not received an answer to his earnest query, Scotty obviously was hurt, and he left the room. Melanie assured herself that it was best for him, in the long run, if she didn't encourage his interest in her. As for herself, she didn't know what was best. She only knew what she had to do…

Hers was not the only course of conduct that seemed inevitable, determined by deep-felt personal needs combined with circumstance. Bea's next move was dictated in like manner.

As the campaign trip around the state continued, Linc rigidly enforced his requirement that Bea was not to leave the hotel suite alone. He instructed his entire staff to keep an eye on her, and Phil, the chauffeur, was forbidden to drive her anywhere.

Moreover, now that Linc was involved with Melanie, his sexual interest in his wife waned.

What was a woman to do? Turn to another woman for sexual satisfaction-namely, Melanie? Forget it. The teacher would have nothing to do with her.

In Bea's memory, the sight of her son screwing the pretty blonde burned brighter and hotter as the days passed. She itched. She tried to resist what the world would have called an unnatural urge, but she had little success.

In similar manner, Scotty was deprived of sexual satisfaction with a woman, after learning to need it. He, like his mother, squirmed in frustration.

Given these circumstances and conditions, it was understandable that Bea gravitated to her teenaged son's bedroom on a dull afternoon when everyone else was away. Her pulse quickened as she approached his door and, on impulse, opened it without knocking.

Scotty stood in the center of the room, wearing nothing but his stretchy, white briefs.

"Mom!" he exclaimed, more surprised than embarrassed.

"Ooh, I'm sorry!" she said. "I didn't know you were changing."

But she made no move to withdraw as she stared at his snug-fitting underwear, remembering how he had looked without anything on as he had dismounted from Melanie.

"I was going to put on my trunks and go for a swim," he said.

Something made Bea ask, "Is that what you really want to do?"

"No," the boy admitted. "But maybe a splash in the water and some exercise will help me get my mind off what I want to do."

"Which is…?"

"Fuck Melanie," he said, unabashed. "I, uh, understand how you feel," his mother said, and nervously looked away. "But that blonde chippy isn't the only woman in the world."

The youth studied his mother in silhouette, her skimpy dress clinging to her melon-like breasts which were braless, her nipples imprinting themselves on the silky, floral fabric. The dress fitted her hips and thighs with similar snugness and ended just above her knees, revealing her shapely legs in sheer nylons, their appeal heightened by high-heeled pumps.

Scotty thought of all the times he had watched his mother screw, and he imagined her nude before him at that moment. His cock began to rise, pushing out his stretchy underwear.

He didn't try to hide his growing hard-on, and it grew to stunning height and stiffness, expanding his briefs as if an iron bar were sticking up inside them.

Bea glanced at him… and gasped. Heat suffused her.

"Scotty!" she cried. "Ooh, darling! What are you thinking?"

"What are you thinking, Mom?" he replied.

"That I'd love to see what you look like with a hard-on!" she blurted. "Without those silly underpants in the way."

Scotty pulled his briefs down, and his cock bobbed springily, maintaining its rigid erection. If anything, it stood even taller, nearly touching his belly. the pink head swelled, fresh and inviting.

Bea moved slowly toward him. It was as if some strange power were controlling her, as if she no longer were in command of her own actions.

Her hand found her son's cock. She looked down as she clutched the shaft, marveling at its granite-like hardness, and watched the rosy bulb swell above the circle of her fingers.

Scotty took hold of her tits.

"If I let you suck, will you let me suck, dear?" she asked.

"Sure, Mom!" he said, and their seemed to be a new closeness, a new warmth, between them.

She unfastened the top of her dress and lifted a plump titty out. Holding it on her palm, she gave the glob a little shake to make it quiver all over. Her nipple stiffened before her son's ardent eyes.

His mouth watered. He bent his head.

For the first time in fourteen years, he clasped his eager lips around his mother's nipple and sucked. She shivered with delight, and her titty-flesh vibrated against his mouth.

He gobbled harder at her breast, sucking in as much of the wobbly, supple softness as possible and his tongue snaked round and round her nipple. As the chunk of erectile tissue grew in his mouth and throbbed, Bea was amazed by the boy's ability to arouse her… quite apart from the fact that he was her son.

The boy's stiffly up thrust cock felt like a stone column standing against her belly. But stone could not feel so warm or make her so warm.

She writhed against Scotty's prick as he turned from titty to titty, sucking each nipple to throbbing thickness that was wet and red.

She anxiously got her hand down between their bodies and gripped the knob of his cock, as if she were shifting the gears of a Ferrari.

"Scotty… oooh, Scotty! We shouldn't be doing this!" his mother panted. But she gripped his cock all the harder.

He let the satin sacs of her bosom settle and stepped back far enough to give her room. Many nights he had jacked off while watching her go down on other men. Now he hoped to get his chance.

She didn't disappoint him, but sank to her knees, gazing at his lovely 15-year-old cock, so straight and stiff, standing higher than a full-grown man's would do. It was almost literally straight up, exposing his boyish balls which bore only a light-fuzz. There was not much of a thicket around the base of his monument, either-just a few swirls of delicate, childish hair.

Bea's mouth watered as she approached his up thrust prick.

This is my SON'S cock! she thought, shocked by her own wanton conduct.

What do I care? came a response from elsewhere in her mind.

Yes, I do care! I DO care! another inner voice said. I want to suck this beautiful dick because it IS my son's!

But she didn't have quite enough courage to cap her mouth right down over the pinnacle of his prick and start sucking. She approached the column from the side, and she kissed it about midway between glans and balls. Scotty quivered, and his mother could feel the hot blood in his penis throbbing against her lips.