Mommy's House, Mommy's Rules
Earlier in the day, I had appeared in court for a divorce hearing with my pathetic, alcoholic, abusive now-ex-husband. He refused to work and now I had to pay him monthly to exist and to live with his little whore of a girlfriend. I was now in my 40s and not sure what to do with myself. Two of our three kids lived on their own and our youngest, Tyler had just turned 18. He is a wonderful boy and I love him dearly but he looks and often sounds a lot like his father. I was now single and carrying a little more weight, more grey hair and a lot more wrinkles than in my 20's. To say that I was feeling anxious would be an understatement.
I set my purse on the counter and changed into my frumpy mom-pajamas. I then spotted the cigarettes peeking out of my purse and decided to have one. What did it matter? I stepped outside and it was cold with frigid wind and quickly changed my mind. As I started to slide the cigarette back into the pack, I realized that this is now my house and I could do as I pleased. My ex husband would have thrown a fit or even hit me for smoking in the house, garage or car but he was now gone. Besides, everyone used to smoke inside. My parents did and I turned out just fine. Back when I was a smoker, I never had a cigarette anywhere near my kids but they are all adults now. My daughter smokes in her apartment and Tyler visits her regularly. I have never heard him complain. He might even smoke for all I know. It didn't matter anyway. In a moment of newly felt freedom and liberation, I sat on my chair and lit up.
A little while later, Tyler arrived at home and walked into the living room. He appeared annoyed and accusatory and I was in no mood for attitude after the day I had. "Are you smoking?" He asked with a whiny and pretentious tone.
"Not right now." I responded sarcastically.
He stomped back and forth like a child and groaned "Did you start smoking again? Are you seriously smoking in the house? This is my house too and I don't agree with this. Ugh!" I looked at my youngest flatly and said
"Tyler, this is my house and I make the rules. If a little smoke bothers you that much, you should go to the basement or to your room." He stomped to his room and slammed the door as I defiantly lit another cigarette. It felt good to assert myself, especially since his father used to yell at me and stomp around in much the same way.
About an hour later, Tyler came out of his room looking angry. He didn't say a word, he walked forcefully to me, snatched my cigarettes off of the side table, took them into the kitchen and stuffed them into the garbage disposal. Maybe it was the rough day or blatant act of disrespect in my own home but I decided 18 was not too old to receive a spanking. I am not a small woman and Tyler has never played sports or exercised. He has a small build and is no taller than I am. I was confident he could not stop me from imposing my will on him I got up from my chair and grabbed a wooden spoon from the counter.
I pointed it at him and with authority I didn't know I had, I commanded "Pants down! Now!"
Tyler froze and eked out "What? Mom?" I got louder and demanded
"Take them down or I will pull them down. Now!" He turned and pulled his pants down just enough to expose his navy blue underwear. "All the way. Underwear too, Mister!" I couldn't believe he obeyed me. I stepped forward and firmly bent him over the counter. Holding his upper body over the counter with one hand, I spanked him with the wooden spoon in the other. I must have swatted his bare ass 5 or 6 times.
I stopped, let him go and told him to pull himself together, I then went back to my chair. A few minutes later Tyler came in and apologized. I gave him a hug and kiss and told him he was loved and forgiven. To his surprise, I then told him he needed to go to the gas station and get me a pack of cigarettes to replace the ones he destroyed. I chuckled when he asked me for money and he despondently left. When he returned, I invited him to cuddle on the couch with me. He hadn't done that in years but got under a blanket and cuddled with his mother. It was very nice and I could have stayed that way all night. He didn't complain when I smoked and even giggled when I sarcastically asked him if he would like one.
Over the next few weeks, he would glare or occasionally produce a forced cough when I had a cigarette around him but I ignored his passive aggressive behavior. I had settled into 8-10 cigarettes per day which is about what I used to smoke. I guess I did start smoking again but would often smoke in the garage or outside and might have one or two per night inside my house. That didn't matter to me, I had quit before and felt I could again when I wanted to.
On what seemed like a random Tuesday, my ex husband's slimy lawyer called me and told me that the lawn mower belonged to my ex. He lives in an apartment and has no need for a mower and I thought we were finally finished with his petty games. He does these things just to infuriate me and it was working. I hung up on him and stormed into the garage, grabbed a hammer and stood over the damn lawn mower. I had enough control to not smash it, instead I set the hammer on the seat and went inside, seeing red the entire time.
Charged up, pissed off and frustrated, I sat next to Tyler and lit up a cigarette. He could not have picked a worse time to harass me. "Mom, are really going to sit right next to me and smoke? Seriously?!?" Something about the whiny tone of his voice enraged me. Before I knew it, I had pushed him onto his back and straddled him on the couch. My knees on his shoulders and my butt on his chest, I grunted and dominated him in one second.
As calmly as I could I said "I've had enough of your complaints. Would you like some?" I put my cigarette to his lips. His eyes were wider than I have ever seen and he didn't struggle.
He quietly said "No, thank you. I'm sorry Mom."
I asked "Are you sure. C'mon, be a big boy and try it." He shook his head and stared at me in disbelief. I took a long drag and, for the first time in his life, quietly blew my smoke at his skittish face.
Feeling accomplished, I slid down his body so I could stand up and I felt it under me. He had an erection. I sat on it for a few seconds while maintaining silent eye contact with my son. He gasped slightly and his eyes, ever so briefly, showed nothing but pleasure. I didn't know why but was intrigued that he had reacted that way, I felt powerful, dominant and authoritative. I had domineered him and not only did he heed, but he became aroused. Never in my life have I felt that kind of power over a man. I didn't think I had any sexual feelings in that moment but I knew for sure that I felt commanding and efficacious. I sat back down and finished my smoke as if nothing had happened.
I enjoyed knowing I had that kind of stalwart influence over him. Tyler has always had a tendency to have tantrums when he is frustrated or angry and that weekend, he was making himself a grilled cheese sandwich when he became distracted by his phone and burned the bread. He tossed the pan into the sink and stomped around the kitchen like a spoiled toddler. I politely asked him to clean his mess up before leaving the kitchen. With his hands on his hips, he barked "I'll get it later. I'm going to McDonald's first." I was not about to put up with that.
He stormed out and I waited at the kitchen table, armed with a spatula. My weapon of choice seemed appropriate. When he walked in carrying a paper bag, he looked to be calmer. I stood and brandished the spatula while asserting the words "Drop your pants and do not even thinking about arguing with me."
He simply responded with the words "Uhhh...ok," and pulled his jeans and boxer briefs to his knees while bending over.
I reared back my arm and released it as hard as I could. I heard a very satisfying thwack as the spatula made contact with his bare bottom. He grunted but stayed still. The skin where I had spanked him turned pink and hot and I delivered another smack to the same spot. This time, he whimpered. The third time, he bleated loudly. Almost serenely, I smiled and stated "Two more" and practically scalded his ass with my spatula. I stood behind him and rubbed some of my hand cream on the red, searing skin as I cooed "There, Baby. That should help." I felt like his mother and his captor all at once. That was new.
I instructed him to pull himself together and as he reached for his underwear and jeans, I could see he had an erection. I hadn't seen it since he was little and it was standing in all it's glory. I didn't feel guilty about seeing, he was an adult after all. Maybe my baby boy enjoys being dominated. He likely has no idea what perversions he really likes. He's never had a girlfriend and is undoubtedly still a virgin. Pure and untainted, he pulled up his pants and quietly ate his burger and French fries.
A few days later, we had a similar incident, it genuinely surprised me that he had not learned his lesson. I made pork chops and baked potatoes for dinner but he didn't want any. He declared he was making his own dinner which was not a big deal. He only knows how to make grilled cheese and, to my astonishment, he texted feverishly as his sandwich burned once again. I almost laughed as I watched it happen before my maternal eyes.
"Oh! Dammit!!" He whined as turned off the stove and stomped away from the mess he had created.
"Get back here and take care of this" I ordered. He wanted to be insolent and contemptuous and turned toward me and said
"Just get it yourself, if it's so important" and marched toward the living room. He had forced Mommy to get mean and Mommy was about to get mean. I walked to him, took ahold of his shirt sleeve and spun him toward me. "What?!?" he yelled in my face. "You can't spank me, I am a grown man! A grown fucking man!!" He growled through his clenched teeth.
Before I had time to process his reaction, I smacked him across the cheek. He looked shocked and before he could speak, I told him to drop his pants and bend over. Once he had done so, I went into the bathroom and returned with a hairbrush. We have rules and he will not scream in my face, especially in my own house. I spanked him hard, over and over. He grunted and groaned. I walloped his bare ass at least a dozen times but didn't feel like I had done enough. Who did he think he was, talking to his mother like that? He was panting heavily and I saw his manhood, swollen and firm. I have no idea what got into me but I grabbed it and pulled up on it, causing him to stand up straight.
With my youngest offspring's erect penis in my motherly hand I harshly asked "Is this why you don't behave, do you like when I spank you? Do you get off on it?"
He looked at me aghast and just said "Mom...uh..."
I got even angrier and inquired "Does Mommy give you a boner? Is that why you can't be good?" I felt it throbbing in my hand.
His voice quivered and he softly said "I don't know what to say." That only made me more annoyed. Without realizing it, I was kneading it in my hand and gently tickling the underside of the head. His breathing sped up and his eyes rolled back a little. He clearly enjoyed it. I stopped and told him to go to his room and stop being pervy. He loped to his room with his pants around his ankles and Mommy needed a smoke and a vodka tonic. I sipped my drink and smoked my cigarette in the quiet living room. I chuckled to myself thinking about having referred to myself as "Mommy" it has been at least a decade since I had done that. It felt natural and organic and I knew I would say it again.
All night, I tossed and turned at the thought of grabbing him by his member and he, ever defiant, simply submitted. I owned him in that moment and the the thought of that was beyond intoxicating. I know he's my son and it's not like I could not find a man, but he just surrendered to me. My entire adult life, men have controlled and abused me. Tyler, who looks remarkably like his father, felt he could scream in my face and seconds later was ready to accede completely. I would never ever hurt him but I now needed to know how much control I could have over him. I could still be a good mother, I would just be more strict with him. The thought also crossed my mind, more than once, if I touch his manhood, how much more will he concur and abide by his mother's rules. He obviously likes it. His cock wouldn't be hard if he didn't enjoy it. I decided that it would be ok to handle it as long as it was hard. Perhaps it was flawed logic, but it made perfect sense to me at the time.
The following evening, I was feeling not only authoritative and dominant but lustful and motherly. My feeling did not make sense but I wasn't confused by them, it was time to follow them wherever they happened to take me. Tyler and I finished dinner and he put his dishes away but forgot a glass on the table. Normally, I would put it away and not worry about it but today, I wanted an opportunity to show my son who the boss really is.
Down the hallway, I yelled "Tyler, get out here and explain yourself." He popped out of his room and asked what was wrong. I told him about the glass on the table and feigned anger. He rinsed it and place it in the dishwasher. Abruptly, I knew what I was going to do. I told him to go to my room, remove all of his clothes, fold them and place them on the bed and wait for me. He turned and walked into my bedroom without speaking a single word. I waited a few minutes and was filled with anticipation. I had to be patient but desperately wanted to go in there.
I took a brush from my bag and slowly walked into my bedroom. Tyler stood by the bed, angled toward it to hide his member. "I shouldn't have to do this. Now bend over" I uttered as I approached my 18 year old. He did as he was told and I gave his bare butt three solid cracks with my pink, plastic brush. He groaned with each spank and waited for more. "Now stand up and face your mother, young man" I instructed.
"Mom...Ummm..." he stammered, only to be met with me sternly ordering "I said now."
He slowly stood and faced me, his dick hard and pointing toward me. My body and mind were all atingle as I saw total submission along with total arousal. He clearly liked submitting to me. I took hold of his man meat and he looked away. "Look at me" I said and his eyes met mine. "Why do you like when I spank you and hold your wiener?" I asked arrogantly.
He responded with "Mom..."
I smiled coyly but also with love, I touched his face with my free hand and said "If you didn't like it, this would not be hard. Don't be ashamed of it. It's perfectly normal for a boy your age to want his mother to touch his peepee." I very lightly rubbed the under-side of it with my fingertips and felt it twitch and even jump. Tyler looked at my hand on his rod and he got even harder! It felt like it was going to burst and he was trying to suppress moans deep in his lungs.
"Mmmmm, what am I going to do with you, my bad boy" I cooed as I looked at my stimulated and nervous son. I let go of his cock and told him to get dressed and watch a movie with me. He did as he was told and even cuddled on the couch with me.
He became more attentive and better behaved but, it seemed that was not enough for me. I began to have more and more wanton feelings toward him. Knowing I could make his cock spring to life any time I wanted, became an amazing little secret of ours. I made him more than 18 years ago and now, he is an adult and living in my house following my rules. I concluded that if I occasionally want to touch his dick, I am well within my rights as his mother to do that. It's no different than spanking his bare ass after all. Furthermore, he obviously enjoys it when I touch it, so there was no reason to stop.
One cold evening, I asked him to cuddle with me on the couch and he did. He had been so well behaved, I felt the need to push a few buttons. As we watched a movie, I casually lit up a cigarette. He gave me a quick side eyed glare and then turned his gaze back toward the movie. I took a very long, steady drag, turned toward him and slowly blew a long and thick plume of smoke at his sweet face. He looked at me with astounded alarm, he thought about saying something but just stared, jaw agape. As we made intense eye contact, I took another drag, leaned forward a little and very deliberately blew my smoke all over his face. "Mom...what the...are you kidding me?!?" he exclaimed.
I sucked on my cigarette hard and slow, then said "Hush" and exhaled my smoke at his face again.
This time, he puffed his chest out and said "You can not do that! How can you be like that? Mom!"
Inside I smiled. knowing I had just baited him into doing exactly what I wanted. I set my cigarette in the lime green, glass ashtray on the side table and then pushed my boy's side onto the couch. His butt was facing the TV and I yanked his pajama pants down and spanked him hard with my bare hand. He buried his face in a pillow. After a few swats, I laid down spooned with him. I could see his cock was "tenting" his pants and I slid my hand down his stomach, under his waistband and grabbed his unbending meat.
"Mom" he whimpered.
With my lips to his ear I asked "Why must you talk back? I don't like spanking you." As I spoke I was giving abbreviated strokes to his young cock. "Answer me, why are you always so bad?" I asked, knowing the pleasure was distracting him.
After a long pause he squeaked the words "Maybe you stop touching it?"
I giggled and held it tight, I asked "Why, are you gay?"
He quickly responded "No." I giggled again and said "If you were, I would stop, but since you're not and you obviously like it, I'll touch you whenever I want. If it bothers you that much, you can move out. You told me you're a grown man." I continued to stroke it and soon, I knew he was going to cum. "If you want me to stop, I'll stop." I whispered in my youngest offspring's ear.
"No, mom...please don't stop," he exclaimed into a pillow. I stroked his rigid cock faster and he sprayed his hot seed on the couch and blanket. I didn't feel bad at all, in fact, I felt accomplished, wicked and excited. "I whispered, clean your mess up" and I got up to get ready for bed.
For the next couple of days, Tyler was a little more quiet than usual. Then, one night I could not fall asleep. I drank some wine and tried to relax. Just as I have done his entire life, I peeked into his bedroom and watched him slumbering soundly. But this time, I crept inside and carefully lifted the blanket. His hands were at his sides and he donned only boxers. I tickled his cock over his underwear with only the tips of my nails and his cock woke up and grew tall, straight and solid. He was still asleep.
https://superela.com/clube/563479/mulheres-tem-gosto-tao-diferente-pra-filmes-pornograficos#
https://summonerswar.co/chapter-25/
https://teletype.in/@nekiwumo/B50MXn2pV
https://id.techinasia.com/profile/anthonysanchez
https://tabelog.com/rvwr/cehumafi/prof/
http://157.tapuz.co.il/olamot/userprofile.aspx?username=vucuviku
Комментарии
Отправить комментарий