NUDE HOUSEWORK

March 10

I have not been writing in a diary for over fifteen years, but it is all becoming too much. I need to let my feelings out, get rid of some of my frustration, or else I'm going to explode.

My name is Monica. I am 44 years old. I married Tom a little over a year and a half ago. Tom is 49 and has a son from his first marriage. His name is Sanjay, but everybody calls him SJ. He just turned 18 last month.

Sanjay is the problem. Well, one of them. You see, Sanjay resents me. After his mother left when Sanjay was 11, his father was all he had left, and he became his whole world. Now that I'm in the picture, SJ believes that I am going to take his father away from him, that I am going to steal his love, and that eventually, he will abandon him, just as his mother has done.

I tried, I really have. I have explained to Sanjay that I could never replace his mother. I have told him that his father will always love him more than he loves me. I have paid a lot of attention to SJ, tried to help him, to bond with him. Despite having said that I could never replace his mother, I have tried to do just that, and still: he hates me.

Nothing has been working, and now Tom is starting to get on my back as well. He claims that I'm not trying hard enough, that I should somehow magically know what to do, just because I am a woman. So we are fighting about it more often, and it's not helping either one of us. And Tom is often away from home, due to his job as crew chief for a large construction company building huge hotels in Kuwait. We see him maybe 8 weeks a year, and even our fights have to be long-distance over the phone.

I just don't know what to do anymore. My stepson hates me, and my husband blames me for it. I don't have anybody to talk to, and I haven't had sex in 5 months. If this goes on, I'm going to fall into a bottle, whether alcohol or pills I don't know yet. Both are becoming more and more attractive to me.

March 18

Tom called yesterday, and we had another awful fight over the phone. He won't be coming home for at least three more months, and I made the mistake of complaining about not having a husband at home, and of course, he accused me of being selfish. Instead of thinking of sex (he brought it up, not me), I should be thinking about his son and what to do to be a better mother for him. I tried to tell him that I would do whatever it took, but that SJ wouldn't let me get close to him. Didn't work, of course; according to Tom, it's all my fault.

So, as expected, I started drinking. I told you I was going to fall into a bottle. This morning, instead of doing housework, I sat and watched some stupid TV show about people having more problems than me, and I had a few martinis. Large ones. By 11 o'clock in the morning, I was half drunk. Didn't help, of course. I need someone to talk to.

April 5

I am drinking more often. SJ hasn't changed his attitude at all, except now he noticed a few times that I had had a drink, and now he's bitching at me for that, too. Says he's going to tell his dad all about it. Just what I need. Why did I marry Tom again? Oh yeah, I loved him. I mean, I love him. I do love him, but what's the point if he's never here? The only thing I'm getting out of this marriage is money, lots and lots of money. I grew up poor, and now I have everything I ever wanted as a girl. And nobody to share it with.

April 27

I am pretty sure I did something really stupid.

Yesterday afternoon, one of Sanjay's friends came around to visit him. SJ wasn't here (it happens more and more often now that he doesn't come home after school).

Carl, his friend, was very nice. He is the exact opposite of SJ: friendly, polite, good manners. When he found out that SJ wasn't in, he apologized for bothering me and started to leave. I was feeling very lonely and bored in this big house, so I asked him if he wanted to wait for SJ. I told him he should be back any minute, even though I knew it could be hours until he came home. I just wanted someone to talk to.

I offered Carl some lemonade, and we went into the living room to wait for SJ. We made small talk about the weather and school, about other students SJ and Carl both knew and I had met around the house. Carl was a delight to have around. He was paying attention to me, he was polite, he listened, and he did not bitch at me once.

Then, I noticed that Carl was paying maybe a little too much attention to me.

During the last few months, I had stopped dressing up during the day. What was the point? I was always alone, so unless I had to go out, I had taken to lounging around in old skirts and t-shirts. Due to my lazy lifestyle, I had gained a few pounds. I'm not fat, by any means, but I had filled out a bit, especially around my ass and my boobs, and so the skirts and the shirts were very tight on me. The skirts, fairly short to begin with, would ride up even higher than usual, and the t-shirts really showed off my boobs and my nipples.

And that was exactly where I saw Carl staring. His eyes became glued to my tits whenever he thought I wasn't looking.

At first, I was a little shocked. I mean, there was this boy sitting in my living room, drinking lemonade, talking about teachers and his lack of progress in math, staring at my tits. But then, I began to feel flattered. After all, I was more than twice his age, and Carl was very good-looking. He could have probably had his choice of the girls at his school, but instead, he was staring at me.

When I noticed him looking at my legs, I felt the first butterflies stirring. I checked my skirt, and the way I was sitting, and I was pretty sure that Carl hadn't been able to see anything other than my legs and thighs, but he was sure paying a lot of attention to my body.

This was probably wrong, but I decided to let him look. I thought it wouldn't do him any harm, and it would make me feel good, so why not? What was the harm in letting him look at some leg, and some boobs under a t-shirt? Besides, my inhibitions had been lowered by the drinks I had had before Carl had come over.

Carl began to shift around uncomfortably on the couch, and I smiled inwardly. I was pretty sure he had a boner, and he was trying to hide it from me. It had been a mild spring day, and, like most kids, Carl was already walking around in shorts. I began to wish that he would stand up so I could get a better look at him.

After about an hour, Carl began saying that he should probably be going, since SJ might not come back anytime soon. I was feeling good; for the first time in months, I was having a conversation with somebody who I liked, and who obviously liked me.

I know it was wrong, but I didn't want him to go.

So, I opened my legs and let him look up my skirt.

I know, I know, how could I? Thinking back, I must have been nuts, but at the time all I could think about was that I didn't want him to go just yet. I didn't want to be alone again. I didn't want to be thinking about what to do with SJ, or about the next fight with my husband. I didn't want to have another drink, either.

So, I opened my legs. Not blatantly, just a little bit, enough to let him look at my panties. Carl noticed the change in my position right away, and whipped his head around so fast, he should have gotten whiplash. I asked him if he was sure he had to go, and he stuttered that maybe he could wait just a little bit longer, and let himself fall back down onto the couch.

This time, I was sure that I could see his cock under his thin shorts, all hard and stiff.

Because of me!

I noticed my pussy getting a little moist. It had been so long, since she had gotten any attention, other than from myself. I really started to enjoy myself. I playfully opened and closed my legs a bit, just to draw attention to them, and in doing that I opened them a little more each time, so that after a few minutes, during which time Carl hardly said a word, my legs were open wide enough to give him an unobstructed view of my small, white lace panties.

I felt good! I felt powerful! Every time I took a deep breath, causing my t-shirt to tighten over my boobs, Carl's head would bounce up. Every time I spread my legs a little farther, his eyes would jump back to my panties. I could tell him what to do, where to look, without words.

It made me feel so good, knowing that somebody wanted me. And I had Carl eating out of my hand. I excused myself to get a glass of water. In the kitchen, I made sure to pull my panties tighter against my pussy, causing them to bunch up and display more of my lips. When I came back with the water, I sat down and spilled a few drops on my boobs, making the shirt a bit see-through right over my left nipple, instantly attracting Carl's attention.

Soon after, Carl again started making noises about leaving. I don't think he was getting bored with the view, and I was carrying the main part of our conversation, so he couldn't be running out of things to say either. Could it be that he just wanted to go home so he could start playing with his hard cock? I didn't know, but I imagined that that was the exact reason for him wanting to leave.

Imagine that, an 18-year-old boy jerking off, thinking about my tits and my pussy. No, my panties, he hadn't even seen my pussy yet.

Yet? The thought suddenly shot through my head. How could I even have such a thought? I desperately tried to forget it, but I could not, no matter how much I scolded myself for such a dirty thing to think of.

Before I could make up my mind, however, Carl had already gotten up from the couch and was standing, ready to leave. I could see his boner, and my pussy twitched a little. I could very clearly see that this boy was excited because he was looking at me, seeing my body, looking up my skirt, and I was suddenly very happy.

And no, I did not show him my pussy. But I did think about it, later that night, while I was lying naked on my bed, rubbing my clit. Oh yes, I was thinking very nasty thoughts that night.

April 29

Carl came back again! SJ was not home, only this time, I'm sure Carl knew he wouldn't be home before he came over. When I explained that he had missed my stepson again, he asked if he could wait for him, and I was happy to let him.

After Carl's last visit, I had changed my routine. Having found out that this boy found me attractive, I started taking better care of myself. I had not had a drink since Carl had left, and I had begun to dress better, to wear make-up around the house, to wear things I thought were a bit sexier than an old skirt and t-shirt.

Carl seemed to agree. His eyes never left my body while we stood in the hallway, and on the way to the living room, I was sure I could feel his eyes burning on my ass under my tight pencil skirt. While he was walking behind me, I sneakily opened one more button on my white blouse to allow him an even better look down my cleavage. I thought I was being very clever.

We sat in the living room again, talking. Well, I did most of the talking, while Carl did most of the looking. He stared at my boobs and my legs, and I was again able to see his dick getting hard under his shorts.

"Well, I guess SJ isn't coming anytime soon, so maybe I better get going," Carl said after only 20 minutes.

Oh no, not already. I thought about what I could do to get Carl to stay, and quickly realized I had made a mistake with the clothes I had chosen. The blouse, although giving him a nice view of my cleavage, was not as tight as the shirt had been, and with the long pencil skirt, I had no way of letting Carl get a look at my panties. Sure, my ass looked great in it, and it showed off my legs nicely, but that didn't seem to be enough since he couldn't see either one with me sitting on the couch. What to do? I had been going for 'pretty and sophisticated', while I should maybe have tried more for 'sexy and slutty'.

I am ashamed to admit it, even to myself, but I definitely wanted Carl to stay, so I looked away from him, and while I asked him if he was sure he had to go already, I opened another button on my blouse, right in front of him.

Carl stared at me with big, round eyes. "No, I guess I can stay a little longer," he said. I am sure I blushed when I looked at him and saw him staring at my cleavage. He now had a good view of the top third of my breasts, and he must have seen me open the button on purpose.

Strangely enough, the shame I felt at that moment, the embarrassment for being so daring and yes, slutty, made my pussy tingle even more. What must this boy be thinking of me? Was I still 'Mrs. Sellers' in his mind, or did he think of me now differently? I didn't really know how, just that in his mind, something must have changed at that point.

I was nervous, anxious. I felt like I was on display. Up until now, I had been able to pretend to myself that what I had shown to this boy had been an accident, carelessness, even stupidity, but not anymore. I had just given this boy a better view of my tits, on purpose!

This time, it only took ten minutes. "Well, I better get going," Carl said, making no attempt to get up. A slightly nervous smile played around his lips.

"No, please don't go yet," I begged, very quietly. Gathering all my courage, I opened another button on my blouse. My face was burning with shame, but my pussy was tingling with excitement.

"Okay, I can stay a bit," Carl replied, now smiling broadly and staring openly at my tits, which were half hanging out of my blouse. Meanwhile, his cock had built a very large tent in his shorts, which he didn't try to hide anymore.

After only five minutes, Carl repeated his earlier words. "I better get going, I guess."

I felt very nervous. I took a deep breath, which almost made my tits jump out of my blouse. Shamefaced, I opened yet another button on my blouse. Now, there were only two buttons left, and my breasts were almost completely on display.

Carl rose from the couch. No, what was he doing? I had already opened a button. What was going on?

Then it hit me. The little shit knew exactly what I was doing. He knew I didn't want him to go. And he was pushing me. One button was not enough anymore.

How far was I willing to go?

Carl was staring openly at my tits, while he ever so slowly continued to get up from the couch. I had to make a decision quickly. If I didn't continue this game, he would leave. Worse, he might not come back again, and I would be back to being lonely and having nobody to talk to.

I didn't want to admit to myself that there was more to it. Carl's eyes on my boobs made my pussy tingle, and shivers of excitement crawled up and down my spine.

I wanted to show this boy more.

I wanted to be desired, to be lusted after.

I wanted to make the boy horny, so I could see his cock grow hard, could see the desire in his eyes, the greed, the passion.

I hadn't felt like this for too long, and I didn't want to give it up.

My face was burning as I slowly hiked up my skirt until my thighs were exposed, and the tops of my stockings became visible. My pussy twitched as I saw Carl's tongue lick over his lips. His cock was sticking straight out against his shorts, and it looked as though they might split open at any time, allowing his dick to jump straight out at me.

And still, Carl did not sit down. I shook my head ever so slightly, pleading with my eyes for him to have mercy on me, but Carl just stared at me.

I gave in, again. I opened another button on my blouse. Only one button protected my boobs now from his leering stare.

'Please, let this be enough,' I thought.

Carl licked his lips again in a very suggestive way. "No, I think I really have to go now," he said quietly.

My hands moved to the last button on my blouse almost on their own accord, without any conscious thought, and opened it. I pulled the blouse open and even lifted my skirt yet another little bit higher.

Finally, Carl sat down again, a knowing smile playing on his lips. What the fuck was I doing? I sat in my living room and showed my tits to this boy. Why the hell did I not wear a bra today? And my skirt? Two more inches and he would be able to see my panties. Two more inches and I would be able to spread my legs and really give him a show.

And why was this turning me on so much? My nipples were hard as rocks, standing out like little cocks, hard and swollen, and my pussy felt like she was on fire. I wanted so badly to run to the bathroom and touch myself, and at the same time, I wanted to stay right here and be looked at by Carl.

Yes, I finally admitted it: I wanted to be looked at. I liked it, and it made me feel good, and it made me horny as hell.

"May I have some lemonade?" Carl asked politely. Of all the things, the boy was asking for lemonade? I felt confused, but, being the hostess, I just said, "Of course," and started to get up and at the same time button my blouse.

"No. Leave it open!"

I swallowed hard and thought harder. Was I sure I want to do this? Carl wanted me to walk around my house, go to the kitchen, open the fridge, get the lemonade, get a glass, pour it, put the lemonade away, and walk back to the living room, all with my tits hanging out?

It got worse. "And leave the skirt alone, too."

Blushing, I got up and did as Carl had ordered. He followed me closely as I walked to the kitchen, no doubt staring at my legs from behind. When the cool air from the fridge hit my nipples, they became even harder, and my breasts became covered with goosebumps. Carl stood beside me, watching my every move. His tongue was hanging out again, he was panting like a dog. I poured the lemonade and went back to the fridge to put it back, and Carl moved behind me. My skirt had fallen down all the way, but it was thin enough, and Carl was close enough, for me to feel his hard-on pushing against my ass.

At that moment, the front door opened, and SJ hollered, "Carl, that you? You here? Where are you?"

Carl moved back, and I hastily buttoned my blouse and straightened my skirt. My face was still beet red as SJ stormed into the kitchen, his eyes flitting back and force between his friend, my face, and my still rock-hard nipples under my blouse.

"Hi, SJ, how was school?" I asked breathlessly.

My stepson looked at me with contempt. Then, with one final look at my tits, he turned to Carl and said, "Come on, let's get out of here."

Then they were gone, and I was alone again. I heard the front door slam shut, and with trembling fingers, I opened my blouse and hiked up my skirt. I almost ripped my panties off in the attempt to get to my wet pussy more quickly. I took two steps to the next kitchen chair and sat down in it. Then, pretending that Carl was still there, still looking at me, I masturbated, right there in the kitchen, where I had felt Carl's cock against my ass.

April 30

I masturbated twice more last night, and again this morning. I was crazy with lust. I had never felt this way before. I remembered Carl's eyes on my body, on my breasts, caressing me with his eyes, and my pussy started gushing, and my hands found their way up under my nightgown, or my skirt, and I rubbed myself to a furious, glorious orgasm, wantonly, shamelessly, my only regard for my own pleasure.

Well, not quite shamelessly. Actually, I felt a quite lot of shame, but that only intensified the pleasure I felt when I thought about how I had displayed myself for this horny teenager's eyes.When the doorbell rang in the afternoon, I was terrified, as well as horny. And very disappointed, because today of all days Sanjay had come home right after school for a change. There would be no playing with Carl today.

I opened the front door, and Carl smiled at me. "Hi, Carl, come in. My son is up in his room."

Carl just stood and looked at me expectantly. "Well, come in."

No response at all. "SJ is upstairs, Carl. What are you waiting for? Do you want me to get him?"

Carl just kept smiling.

And suddenly I knew what he was waiting for. I felt a shiver of anticipation between my legs. SJ was home, but who was I kidding? I wanted him to look at my tits again, whether my stepson was here or not.

"Well, come in, and I'll..." I had to moisten my throat before I could continue my sentence. "Come in, and I'll show you."

Still, Carl only stared at me. I didn't understand. Did he not want to come in? Did he want me to get SJ for him? Did he not want to see me again? Did he just want to wait in front of the door until my stepson came downstairs? Did he...

Shit! "No way, Carl. Come in, and I'll show you."

Carl smiled patiently.

"Carl, no, I can't. Not here." I looked over his shoulder up and down the driveway, across the street to the neighbour's houses. "Somebody might see me."

"Yes, somebody might," Carl finally replied.

At that point, my pussy took over my thinking. Slowly, I opened a couple of buttons, nervously looking around. "There, but that's it."

Carl continued to smile, as he quietly said, "All the way."

I couldn't do this, could I? Why was I getting so horny? My hands reached up, almost against my will, and I unbuttoned the rest of my blouse. "There, happy now?"

"Open," was his calm reply.

As I stood in my open door and pulled my blouse open in front of this teenager, and whoever else might be lurking behind their blinds in the neighbouring houses, I felt my pussy getting wet. Really wet.

"Now the skirt," Carl ordered.

Without thinking, I bent down and grabbed the hem of my skirt, similar to the one I had worn yesterday, although not quite as tight and a bit shorter. I lifted the hem up all the way to my panties. I felt like such a slut, standing there like that in front of the boy.

"Stay," he said and pushed his way past me into the hallway. "Lift the skirt higher!"

I did as I was told. My blouse open, my skirt almost at my waist, panties and naked tits on display, I stood in my open doorway, on display for anyone who would happen to walk by, or who stood behind their drapes across the street. And for Carl, who was somewhere behind me, invisible to me, though I imagined I could feel his eyes on my panty-clad behind.

"You have a beautiful ass," Carl said, and I blushed. "Thank you."

"Now close the door, and please get SJ for me. Leave the blouse open, and the skirt up, until you are in front of his room."

This little shit was ordering me around like a hooker he had paid for, and I was actually following his orders. Not because I wanted to, but because I loved the feeling it gave me. I stepped back into the hallway and closed the door. Under Carl's watchful eyes I walked, blouse open and skirt lifted up, all the way to the stairs and walked up to my stepson's room. Only there did I let my skirt drop and button my blouse, while Carl stood at the bottom of the stairs, still watching me. He didn't say anything, but I'm sure Sanjay must have noticed my nipples poking against the thin white blouse, as well as my heavy breathing. Even to my ears, I sounded as if I had just run a marathon.

After SJ and Carl had left, I walked into my living room. The drapes were closed, and nobody could see me, but I felt eyes on me all the same, as I lifted my skirt again and put one hand into my panties and masturbated myself to another glorious orgasm, right there in the middle of the living room.

May 6

I have not seen Carl for a week. He has not come by to see SJ, and he has not come to see me, either. Is he scared? Has he seen enough? I am beginning to think that he won't be back.

My stepson has been very quiet the whole week. I have no idea what is going on with him. Any attempt to talk to him has been harshly rejected. I am back to being alone.

I still masturbate three to five times a day, thinking about showing my body to Carl. Strangely, the memory of standing almost naked in the door to my house turns me on the longer I think about it, and fuels my masturbatory fantasies now more often than Carl.

I have not heard from my husband either, for which I am grateful. I wouldn't know what to tell him. Certainly nothing about Carl, of course, but I wouldn't know what to say about his son either. As long as Tom doesn't call, we don't have to fight, so that is good news for me.

Now, if only Carl would come back.

May 9

I am in so much trouble! Why did I ever start this?

I know the answer, of course. I was lonely, I hadn't been laid in five months, I was horny. I certainly enjoyed the attention I got from Carl, his eyes on me, his desire when he looked at me. He made me feel beautiful, attractive, sexy and desirable.

Where do I start? Today, SJ stayed home from school. He claimed he wasn't feeling well. The first time he had spoken more than three words to me in weeks.

It was a lie. Around ten this morning, he came to see me and said we needed to talk.

"Carl told me all about what you did," was his opening line. My mouth dropped open, and my heart skipped a beat.

"He told me what a slut my stepmother is," SJ continued. "How you showed him your tits. How you let him look up your skirt. How you showed him your panties. How you stripped in the open door, letting the whole neighbourhood get a good look at you."

I was speechless, I had no clue what to say. Deny everything? Sure, but he wouldn't believe me over his friend. Did Carl have any evidence? Did SJ? I didn't think so, but I couldn't be sure.

"What I want to know is why? Why did you do it? Isn't it enough that you stole my father from me? Now you have to steal my friends as well? Why the fuck did you do this?"

What could I say? I got horny because your father hasn't fucked me in over five months? Carl was there, and your father wasn't?

"Tell me why you did this. And you better tell me the truth, or I'll be on the phone to my dad in a minute and tell him all about it. That'll be the end of your comfy living. No more house, no more money, no more marriage. No more me, either, but I guess you would actually like that part. No more stupid boy you have to look after, especially since he's not even yours. So, talk to me. Aren't you the one who always wanted to talk? Now is your chance, and you better make it good."

His father would believe him, no doubt about that. And with Carl telling the same story, my fate was sealed, even without any evidence. No way in hell my husband would take my side in this.

So I talked. I told Sanjay about my feelings of loneliness and isolation. I told of my frustration with him, about my wasted efforts to be a mother for him; his rejection, and how it had hurt me. I told him how I was supposed to be there for him, and he didn't give me a chance, and that I had nothing to do. That I couldn't work, couldn't go out, because his father would see that as a dereliction of duty to him, to my stepson. I told him about how I was forced to sit around the house all day, waiting for a chance to do something, anything, to improve the relationship between him and me.

And I told him about how good it had felt to have someone to talk to, someone to look at me with something other than resentment in their eyes.

Mostly, I told him the truth. Of course, I left out certain things. Like how horny the whole thing had made me feel, or how often I had masturbated, or how wet I had gotten when I was showing Carl my tits.

SJ sat quietly for a long time. He seemed to actually consider the things I had said. I could still see the disgust in his eyes, but there was also something else there. Maybe understanding? The beginnings of something better?

"I will have to think about this," he finally said. "I am going to stay home tomorrow, and the next day, until I figure out what to do. Meanwhile, stay away from Carl. I told him not to come around anymore, but in case he does, don't let him in. You are on very thin ice right now, so you better not do anything to piss me off."

That was over twelve hours ago. SJ is up in his room, I haven't seen him since this morning. I don't know what to do, other than wait for him to make up his own mind.

May 10

SJ came down for breakfast this morning. He did not say a word, but at least he ate, and he did not call his father.

An hour later, he found me sitting in the living room, staring out the window. "I have a few more questions before I make my decision. I want you to answer me, and be truthful. If I catch you in even a single lie, I will call Dad and tell him all about what his wife is doing here at home, while he is out there working his ass off for us."

I could have argued about how his dad was sitting in an office the whole day, with the A/C going, giving orders to other people. Not exactly working his ass off, as far as I was concerned. And I had begun to wonder why he was never all that horny when he did come home. How many bimbos did he have down there? How many girls had he fucked, while I was here at home dealing with these problems?

But all I said was, "I will tell you what you want to know. I promise." No sense arguing with him about his dad at this point.

"Do you love Dad?"

"I certainly did when I married him. Now, I'm not sure anymore. He has left me alone. He blames me for not getting along with you. He is out there working, and I'm here at home. How can I love someone who is never there? I miss him, and maybe, if things were different, we might be able to work things out. But like this? I don't know what to do. I knew he was working out of the country, that he would be gone a lot, but this is way worse than he led me to expect."

"Why did you show Carl your tits?"

It felt strange, hearing that word out of my stepson's mouth. "I was lonely. Carl was here. We talked. Your father yells at me, you never talk to me, so this was the first time in months I had a conversation with someone who was interested in me. Carl looked at me, even though I didn't even wear anything nice, and it made me feel good. When Carl wanted to leave, I felt I needed to do something to make him stay. He was staring at my breasts, so I guess I figured showing him a little more would get him to stay."

"Carl said that you opened your blouse all the way, and that you even lifted your skirt for him."

I felt my face turn red. "When I opened one button on my blouse, Carl decided to stay a bit longer. Later, he caught on, and he used that to push me into showing him more and more. He threatened to leave, so I showed him more and more." Even to me, it sounded like a very thin reason for what I had done.

"And your strip in front of the open door?" SJ wanted to know.

I felt my face redden. "Carl told me to do it."

"And you just did it? Why?"

"I don't know if I can explain it. It felt good for me when I showed Carl my breasts, and I guess I wanted more of that feeling."

"And by 'felt good', you mean it made you horny? Did it make you wet?"

"Sanjay! How dare you talk to me like that? I am..."

My stepson interrupted me, ice in his voice. "You are a horny slut, that's what you are. You got off on showing your tits to my friend, and it made you horny and wet, and that's why you did it again when he told you to. You like showing yourself off, don't you?"

I did not answer. How could I admit that he was right?

"Remember, if you lie, I won't wait anymore, I will call Dad right now."

I didn't have much of a choice. "Yes, I liked showing myself to Carl."

"Did it make you horny?"

"Yes," I whispered.

"Did you get wet?"

"SJ, please..."

"Did you?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, showing myself to Carl made me wet." I was close to tears. How could my stepson be so cruel to me?

"So you are a slut then?"

"No, I'm not a slut. I am lonely, frustrated, and horny. But that does not make me a slut."

Sanjay was silent for a few minutes. "What do you want to do now then? How are we going to solve this? If I call Dad, you know what will happen. Do you want that?"

"No, I don't. I want to wait until your father comes home, and then try to solve the problems with him, together. If you call him, then I won't have that chance."

"And you'll lose the house and the money and everything, right?"

"Yes, I guess I would. Of course, I would rather avoid that."

Frowning, my stepson continued. "There is another matter to be considered. Carl is only half your age, you know that, right? Do you also know what would happen if this would become public? This would not look good during the divorce, don't you think. How could you keep living here if the neighbours knew about this? And if Carl would complain about what you did, it might be construed as indecent behaviour, and you could go to jail for it."

I had no idea if showing off to Carl could be construed as 'indecent behaviour', but I was terrified I would find out.

"I don't want a divorce, I want to work things out with your father."

"Do you really think you would have much of a chance if Carl went to the police and my Dad found out?"

"No, no chance whatsoever," I admitted.

Sanjay went quiet again. Finally, he told me he would have to do some more thinking, and he would let me know his decision the next day. "Before I go, what are you willing to do to make things right?"

"What do you mean?" I asked. "What can I do? I screwed up, I shouldn't have done that, but what's done is done, I can't undo anything."

"Well, for instance, would you be willing to apologize to Carl?"

"Yes, of course I would."

"So, would you be willing to give him money to forget the whole thing?"

I thought about that. "You mean like pay him off? I guess so. Yes, if I could, if it's not too much money. I couldn't let your father find out."

"Right, so that's what I mean. How far would you be willing to go?"

I still didn't understand, and SJ was getting impatient with me. "What would be the worst thing you'd be willing to do? What if Carl wants to look at your tits again to keep quiet? What if he wants a blowjob? What would you do?"

I was shocked! Never in a million years would I have thought of that. What I did was wrong, so I assumed I would either be punished, or I would be forgiven. I guess I was a bit naive.

"Think about it," Sanjay said. "You've got 'til tomorrow morning to make up your mind."

With those words, he disappeared into his room again, and that was the last I saw of him today. I sat in the kitchen, thinking. I still didn't have any idea what to do.

May 11

I could not sleep yesterday. For several hours, I lay awake in my bed, thinking about SJ's suggestions. Sure, I wanted to put things right, but how far was I willing to go?

I couldn't get my stepson's 'worst-case scenario' out of my head. Would I show Carl my tits again to keep him quiet? Would that keep him quiet? I had my doubts about that. The last time, he already raised his demands by quite a bit. If I let on that he had any kind of power over me, who knows what he would come up with.

So, would I strip naked in front of him? Would I let him stare at my naked body? Would I spread my legs for him and let him look at my pussy? My hot, steamy wet pussy, which I was already rubbing again.

As soon as I imagined standing in front of Carl, hearing his commands, I was instantly horny. 'Strip, you slut,' I heard him in my head. 'I want to see your tits.' In my mind, I unbuttoned my blouse for him, showing him my boobs. I saw his cock grow bigger in his shorts as he commanded me to lift my skirt for him, then to take it off completely. 'Turn, show me your ass,' his commands continued. By this time, I was already getting close to an orgasm. 'Bend over, I want to see your pussy.' In my mind, I corrected myself. 'I want to see your cunt,' he said instead. Cunt sounded so much hotter than pussy at that time.

'Yeah, spread those legs for me, let me get a good look at that wet, steamy snatch of yours,' I could hear him say. Then he commanded me to turn around again and come to him. 'On your knees, slut.' I told myself not to do it. I begged him not to do it, and I was determined to slap him and tell him to go to hell. Instead, I saw myself obeying him without knowing why.

I imagined kneeling, while he was standing in front of me, pulling his shorts down. His stiff cock jumped out at me, pointing straight at my face. 'Now you will suck my dick, until I cum down your throat, you slut, and you will love it. You will swallow every drop, and then lick me clean until I get hard again.'

As my imaginary Carl was shooting his hot cum into my mouth, I orgasmed to the furious rubbing of my clit. Only my willpower kept me from screaming his name while I came all over my fingers; giving my stepson, who slept two doors down from me, any indication as to what I was doing was the last thing I wanted.

After a very restless night, Sanjay joined me for breakfast. He sat down without replying to my friendly, though not very cheerful 'Good Morning'. He silently chewed his pancakes and sipped his orange juice, while I sat as if on hot coals and watched and waited for his decision that would influence the rest of my life.

Finally, he put down his knife and fork and looked at me. "So, did you make a decision?" he asked me.

At first, I didn't understand. I thought he was the one to make a decision. Then it dawned on me that he was still waiting for an answer to his question from the previous day: what would I do if Carl wanted a blowjob?

My heart started pounding, and my breathing became laboured. I blushed, and my nipples got hard under my silk blouse. "If Carl wanted to see my breasts again, I would show them to him," I said, stalling for time, hoping against my better judgement that he might have forgotten his original question.

"So you would strip for him?" my stepson wanted to know, and I nodded.

"Would you give him a blowjob, if he insisted?"

Shit! I swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "Yes," I whispered, "if he would promise me that that would be it."

SJ kept silent for a minute, staring at me.

"So you would suck his cock?" I felt myself go from a girlish pink to a deep shade of scarlet as I nodded my head.

"My God, you really are a slut, aren't you?" I could hear his disgust, or what I took for disgust, clearly in his voice. "Tell me, 'Mother', why are your nipples so hard?" His tone of voice was very ironic, as he called me 'mother' for the first time ever.

I looked down at my chest and saw my nipples pushing hard against my blouse.

"What are you wearing underneath?" asked my stepson.

I thought I had misunderstood, but SJ repeated his question. "How dare you? It is none of your business what I ..."

"Shut up!" he yelled at the top of his voice. "Not one more word out of you, you bitch. Let's get one thing clear, right now, once and for all: no matter what Carl decides to do with his knowledge, what matters most here is me, my decision. If I call my dad, you're toast. History. Done. Is that clear? So you better watch what you're saying to me, Lady, or else you will have no chance whatsoever, Carl or no Carl. Is that clear?"

"Yes, it is," I whispered, head bent and looking at the floor.

"Crystal clear? Completely clear? No misunderstandings, no chance for mistakes? Do you completely understand? You are in my hands, okay? Carl will do whatever I tell him to do. Carl has not had an original thought in his head since he was born. Carl listens to me and does what I tell him. Do you understand that?"Yes, I understand."

"What are you wearing underneath?"

This time, I didn't hesitate. "Nothing under my blouse."

"And under the skirt?" he demanded.

"Just panties."

"Show me!"

He couldn't be serious! I was his stepmother, for heaven's sake. But one look at SJ's eyes told me he was dead serious. Either I did what he wanted, or he would make sure my husband would find out what I had done. And still, I had to try.

"SJ, please, don't do this to me, please. I made a mistake, I want to make it up to you, but not like this. Maybe..."

"Listen, and listen well. You showed Carl your panties, right? You showed him your naked tits, right? And if I had let this little game go on, you would have shown him your naked cunt, right? So you're telling me I'm worth less than Carl? Is that what you're saying? I'm going to count to three. If I don't see your panties by the time I reach three, I will be on the phone by the time I reach four. One..."

I knew I had lost. I stood up from my chair and, in the middle of my own kitchen, grabbed the hem of my skirt and lifted it up, so that my stepson, who had not even reached 'two' by that time, could see my thin, red lace panties.

"Nice," SJ licked his lips. "Now let's practise that a little. Drop your skirt again. Good, now lift it up. Higher. That's it, now hold it. Good girl. Now drop it again. Turn around. Good, now stop. Now lift it up again, let me see that cute ass of yours. Hm, that's it, very nice."

As I stood there, performing like a trained monkey for my stepson, three things came unbidden into my mind. First, lifting my skirt for him was easier than I had thought it would be. Two, my pussy was tingling; I was getting turned on by showing myself to my stepson. And three - and this one made me smile, despite everything else that was happening - he thought that my ass was cute? For some reason, this made me very, very happy.

I was, and still am, so very confused. As I was following his demands, I experienced a sense of freedom, of excitement, of happiness, that I would never have expected. At the same time, I felt ashamed, angry, bitter even, that the son of my husband would humiliate me in such a way.

Ashamed that I had to show him my ass, yet happy that he found it cute.

Angry that he would force me to show myself to him, yet excited by it.

Humiliated that I had to follow his orders, yet feeling free because I could not be blamed.

Embarrassed to perform in front of my stepson, yet eager to do a good job.

I felt I was going crazy.

"Take the skirt off," I heard.

I looked defiantly into SJ's eyes, as I opened the zipper on my skirt and wiggled out of it until it dropped on the floor. Then my eyes dropped, and I saw the tent in his shorts, caused by his erection.

I was making my stepson hard? I was turning him on? What the hell was happening?

This was so wrong. Making Carl horny had been one thing, but doing this to my own son? But then, he wasn't really my son, was he? Hadn't he himself said it over and over again during the last year? 'You are not my mother.' How many times had I heard that?

SJ dropped his hand to his crotch and let it glide over his hard-on, touching it on the outside of his shorts. "Good, now bend over, very slowly. I've been wanting to see your tits for such a long time, I want to really enjoy it. Just bend over, and let your blouse fall open."

Sanjay had been wanting to see my tits? I had never noticed the slightest bit of interest from him in my body before. Had he been that good at hiding it, or had I really not paid enough attention to him?

Since only three buttons on my blouse were open, SJ could not see too much, so he had me undo another button and bend over again, then another one. Now only the bottom two buttons were holding my blouse closed, and my stepson had a great view of the top of my breasts.

"Now stand up, and open the last buttons," he ordered. I stood up straight, and my eyes trailed over his crotch. I gasped. SJ had taken his cock out of his shorts and was openly stroking his hard-on in front of me. His cock was about the same size as my husband's, maybe a bit bigger. The tip was covered in pre-cum, and it looked dark red and pumped up, ready to explode.

I could not take my eyes off his cock as I opened the last two buttons of my blouse and displayed my naked tits to my stepson. Unconsciously, I stuck my chest out, making my tits look bigger than the 34C that they were.

SJ stroked his cock harder as my naked tits came into view. "Oh yes," he panted, moving his hand faster up and down, "yes, you slut, show me those tits. Take your nipples and squeeze them, twist them, pull on them. Yes, make them even harder." My nipples were sticking out farther than I had ever seen, so I doubted they could get any harder, but I tried my best.

"Yes, that's it," SJ gasped, his hand flying up and down his hard, thick cock. "Now turn around, and pull your panties down. Slowly, let me enjoy it. Make sure you bend over and keep your knees straight. Oh yeah, that's it, do it slowly, show me that ass. Oh, how many times I have jerked off thinking about that ass of yours."

I turned, hiding my boobs but showing my backside to my stepson. I took a deep breath and gripped my panties. I heard SJ panting as I pulled my panties over my ass and my naked buttcheeks came into view. 'He thinks I have a cute ass,' I thought stupidly as I slowly slid my panties down my legs. When they came down to my knees, I bent down, keeping my knees completely straight. I spread my legs slightly; not to give my stepson a better view, but to get a better view for myself of his hard cock. I stepped out of my panties and looked between my legs at SJ, sitting at the kitchen table, his cock in his hand, jerking off to the sight of my naked ass.

"Bend over, all the way. Now reach around and put your hands on your ass cheeks, and spread your legs apart," SJ ordered. My face must have turned a deep shade of red as I followed his instructions and put my hands on my ass and spread my legs, showing him my pussy. I was so ashamed, standing in this humiliating position in front of my stepson, and yet I could feel my pussy getting moist as I looked through my legs at his hands on his cock. He had slowed his movements on his hard dick to a leisurely stroking motion. I could see pre-cum dripping from the head of his cock onto his hand.

My stepson moaned and stopped his jerking motions. 'He is jerking off, looking at my ass and my cunt,' I thought. 'And he is ready to come.' I could tell by the twitching of his hard shaft, and I couldn't help feeling... I don't know what. Proud? Dirty? I was bent over in my kitchen, completely naked, in front of my stepson, showing him my naked ass and my - to my embarrassment - now wet cunt. I was making him very horny. So horny in fact that he had to stop his masturbation to prevent himself from coming quite yet. I couldn't help it, I almost started giggling. My young, good looking stud, who had so far done all he could to ignore me and let me feel his indignation at my coming into his father's and his life, was now staring at me with wide-open eyes, ready to come, panting at the sight of me, his stepmom. 'What would you say now, Tom? Would you be pleased that I am finally bonding with your son?'

SJ's hand moved back to his cock and resumed fisting his hard shaft. 'Spread your legs wider. Pull your pussy lips apart, let me see inside. I can see that you are wet, you horny bitch. You really do like showing off your body, don't you?'

I didn't reply. Fuck, why did I have to be wet? I didn't want him to see what this was doing to me, but it was too late. 'Play with yourself,' my stepson ordered.

Play with myself? Masturbate, in front of him? 'No.' I refused. 'I will not do that. Get yourself off at the sight of my body if you want, I can't do anything about that, but I'm not going to touch myself for your perverted pleasure.'

SJ thought for a minute, leaving me standing in my shameful position. 'Tell you what,' he finally said. 'If you don't do it, I'll get on the horn to my dad, and I will tell him all about what you did with Carl. I will also tell him that you tried to seduce me, that you took your clothes off for me, and that you offered me your body in exchange for my silence.'

'But that is not true, that is not what happened,' I cried out.

'Of course not, but who do you think he will believe? Now, to sweeten the deal for you, here is what I'll do. Dad has been mad at you for not connecting with me, right? He's blaming you for not putting enough effort into it. We both know that he's wrong, of course, but he won't believe that. What is it worth to you to not only keep quiet but also to save your marriage? You do what I want, and in return, I will call you 'Mom', 'Mommy', or 'Mother'. I will behave when Dad is here, and I will be the perfect son. And you can pretend that it's all thanks to you, little Miss Perfect Housewife and Mother.'

I didn't know what to say. This was perfect. This was what Tom wanted. Hell, this was what I wanted.

But, to get what I wanted, I had to do what SJ had ordered me to do. And I had no illusions that this would be the only time. Was it worth it? Did I have a choice? If I didn't do it, he would rat me out to his dad, and my marriage would be over. No way Tom would believe me over his son.

'Isn't there some other way?' I asked. 'Anything else I could do?'

I started to straighten up as I asked these questions, and SJ barked at me. 'Don't you dare stand up, bitch. You stay right in that position and show me your ass. And play with yourself!'

'Please, SJ, don't make me do this, please. This is so humiliating. Please!'

'Play with your cunt, you horny slut.'

His voice was loud, cold, without mercy. I really didn't have a choice, not if I wanted to save my marriage. I started crying, but even as the first tears ran down my cheeks, my hand moved to my pussy, and I tentatively began to rub my clit in slow, circling motions. Thankfully I didn't have to do it for very long. Less than a minute later, SJ's breathing became laboured, and his hand moved faster up and down his rock-hard shaft. 'Oh yeah,' I heard him mumble, rub that clit, you bitch. Play with your cunt like the little slut that you are. You're so wet, I can see it. Does it make you horny to watch me jerk my cock? You like showing off your hot body to me, right? Spread your legs for me, Mom, show me... show me how wet you are...'

Then he moaned once, very loud, and came, his cum shooting out all over the kitchen floor. Some of it landed on my right leg, below the knee; I felt it hitting my naked leg, and then slowly dribble down towards my foot.

After SJ had calmed down, he wiped his cock on a few paper towels. 'That was good, Mother. Remember, from now on, you do what I tell you. See you later.'

Then he left, and seconds later I heard the door to his room slam.

May 11 (later)

After SJ had gone to his room, I remained in the kitchen, numb. I cleaned up the mess my stepson (should I now call him my son, after he had finally called me mother while jerking off in front of me?) had made on the kitchen floor and my leg. Strangely, I felt tempted to dip my finger into the cum on my leg, to taste it, to compare the taste to that of his father.

I put my clothes back on and made myself a cup of coffee instead, and contemplated the enormity of what had just occurred. I had shown myself naked to my stepson. I had played with myself in front of him, although only briefly. I had turned him on, made him horny enough for him to whip out his cock and jerk himself off in front of me.

And apparently, this wasn't the first time he had masturbated while thinking about me.

Within a few days, I had shown myself off to two young boys, and both had gotten hard and horny for me. Both had wanted to see more.

See more! That was the crux of the problem. Would Sanjay want to see more? Would he want to see me again? If this was it, if this was the end of it, I could live with it, but how likely was that? How long would it take for SJ to become horny again, and to come to me and repeat what he had said earlier: 'Spread your legs for me, Mom, show me your cunt.'

I shuddered. Not only because I feared that it would not be very long at all before Sanjay would make more demands, but also because my body reacted to my thoughts. 'Spread your legs for me, Mom.' The words, even though I only heard them in my head, sent shivers down my spine and made my pussy tingle while at the same time filling me with dread.

My hands touched my soft hair between my legs. What had I become? SJ had been right, I really was wet, and very horny. Showing myself to my son, seeing him play with his hard cock, seeing him shoot his load of hot sticky cum for me, while he was looking at my body, between my legs, had made me very aroused. I had been ashamed, and had felt humiliated, so why had I become so horny? I did not want to, but being told to spread my legs for the boy had made my heart beat faster and my pussy wet.

Sanjay had called me a slut. Was that what I was? I did not know; all I knew was that I had to make myself come. I felt so wicked, sitting on my kitchen chair, my coffee cold in front of me on the table, with my skirt around my waist and my panties at my feet, playing with my cunt.

What if SJ came back down? What if he caught me like this? Would he call me a slut again? The thought, together with my fingers on my clit, triggered an instant orgasm. I came so hard, I had to bite my tongue to prevent a scream from escaping my lips.

May 11 (later still)

SJ came down for dinner. He didn't say anything, just smiled at me. We ate, and after dinner, he said: 'Thanks, Mom, dinner was great. You are a fantastic cook, as well as great looking. I'm going out now, see what's going on with my buddies. You have a great evening, and don't do anything I wouldn't do.'

I don't know what he meant by that, but I have been thinking about it ever since.

May 15

The last few days have been very strange. SJ didn't come home until after I was already in bed. I had locked my door, afraid he might want to come in, but he went straight to bed.

Nothing happened the next day or the day after. SJ was friendly, polite, and didn't refer to the events in the kitchen, or the thing with Carl. He went to school, came home, did his homework, like a good boy. We had breakfast together, and dinner. I was beginning to wonder if that was really it, if he had gotten what he wanted, and would leave me alone.

Then, yesterday evening after dinner, he did not go out again. Instead, he joined me in the living room to watch TV, something he had never done.

I was watching a rerun of an old movie with Goldie Hawn. SJ sat down on the couch to the right of my chair, and asked me politely if I minded if he changed the program to something a little more interesting; the movie was old, and we both had probably seen it a dozen times between the two of us.

So, I agreed, but instead of changing the channel, SJ got up and put a disc in the DVD player. I could see at once what kind of movie it was. The naked, big titted starlet sucking on some guy's enormous cock was all the hint I needed.

"SJ," I said, "turn that smut off, please. I'm not going to sit here and allow you to watch porn."

He just grinned at me and turned the sound up. 'Fine,' I thought, 'then I'm just going to leave.'

SJ had other ideas. When I got up from my chair, he ordered me to sit down again. "You're going to sit right here, Mom, and watch this movie with me. Who knows, you might even like it, hm?"

"No, really, I don't want..."

"SIT DOWN, BITCH!" he yelled, loud enough for me to be afraid the neighbours might hear. "You're going to sit here, and watch the movie, end of discussion. Do I really have to remind you every day? If you like, I can make you do some little chore every morning, just to remind you that you are mine, that you do what I tell you. Maybe have you lay down on the kitchen table and bring yourself off, while I eat my breakfast? Hm? Would you like that, showing me how you get yourself off, laying on the table, your legs spread, your cunt right in front of my face?"

"No, please don't," I answered, although the thought of having to do just that started to get my juices flowing again.

"But you would have to, if I ordered you to do it, right?"

"Yes, I guess I would."

"Then remember that, Mom. Remember that I own you, okay? Don't make me remind you again, or I am going to do something you really won't like. Do you understand me?"

What could I say? "Yes, I understand."

"Good, then sit, and enjoy the movie."

About 25 minutes into the movie, after watching a lot of sucking and fucking, I was just starting to relax, when suddenly SJ took his cock out of his shorts and started beating off to the movie, acting as if I wasn't even there. I alternated between staring at the movie and watching my stepson jerking off his cock, and my pussy seemed to enjoy both shows.

"Show me your cunt," SJ suddenly ordered. "Show me how a woman does herself."

My first instinct was to argue, but I remembered just in time what he had said. I really didn't have a choice, and arguing wasn't going to get me anywhere, so I just lifted my skirt and pulled down my panties. When SJ saw that, he smiled. "From now on, no more panties, okay? If I ever catch you wearing panties again, you'll be sorry."

"You mean in the house?" I hoped.

"No, I mean anywhere. No more panties at all, not here, not anywhere else. I love the idea of my sexy mom going shopping without panties, it makes my dick go all hard. And it will give you the chance to show off your ass to some guys, just like you love. Now spread your legs more, so I can see you properly."

I did as I had been told, and started playing with my pussy. I was going to pretend only, making it look as if I was masturbating, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing me get horny. As it turned out, that little plan of mine didn't work. Between my stepson's hard cock and the people fucking in the movie, and the thought of not wearing panties from now on, my pussy juices began to flow harder, and the fingers on my clit began to feel really good. Before I realized it, I was playing with myself for real.

SJ was watching me with great interest. He had all but forgotten about the movie, and only had eyes for me. On the screen, 18 or 19-year-old girls with huge tits and tight little asses were fucking their tiny brains out, and this young boy was looking at me instead. My tits weren't as big or as tight, and I was twice their age, and yet he was watching me, not them.

I couldn't help feeling somewhat proud, and I spread my legs wider. I didn't want to lose his attention.

Despite my intentions, it only took a few minutes for me to get very close to an orgasm. The sight of a guy jerking himself off always did it for me.

Before I could make myself come, SJ suddenly stopped and smiled at me. His breathing was very fast, his cock swollen and red, and I knew he was very close as well.

"Come here, slut, and finish me off," he said.

"SJ, please, you can't be serious. This has gone far enough..." I started to protest, but he cut me off. "I told you not to argue with me anymore. You could have just listened and done what I told you, but you had to argue. So now, you will strip naked and then finish me on your knees. I'm going to look at your tits while your hand is jerking me off. You know what will happen if you don't, so don't make me tell you again."

I stood up, slowly. My brain was desperately trying to find a way out. If I only had shut up! It would be embarrassing enough to give my stepson a hand job, but now I would have to be completely naked while I did it.I opened my skirt and stepped out of it, then took off my blouse. I wasn't wearing a bra underneath, and SJ's eyes never left my tits. His cock was still hard, and it twitched as I knelt down in front of him and tentatively touched him. It felt very hard, and hot. I hadn't had a cock in my hand for a long time. I gripped it hard and began moving my hand up and down on him, just like the girl in the movie was doing right now to a guy.

Shit! The bimbo in the movie had stopped jerking the guy off, and taken his cock in her mouth. What if Sanjay...

I didn't want to finish the thought. I moved my hand faster, trying to make him come, quickly, before he saw what the girl did and maybe made me do the same thing. Within seconds, I had SJ panting with pleasure. His cock got even harder in my hand, the head swelled up and became a deep dark purple.

"Oh yes, yes, oh yes, do it, make me come. Make me come, you slut. Oh yeah, yes..."

My stepson came in my hand. His hot cum shot out of his hard prick like a fountain, spurt after spurt, landing on my tits, all over my hand, finally dribbling down onto my legs. His cock stayed hard, and I didn't slow down my movements at all. I grabbed him firmly, moving my hands up and down and up and down. I was fascinated by his youthful cock, by his stamina, by his hardness. If SJ hadn't finally pulled my hand away, I would have jerked him off again, made him come again. My pussy was itching, dripping wet. I looked down at the cum on my tits, running down over my stomach. I was hot. I think if SJ had at that moment ordered me to fuck him, I wouldn't have thought twice about it. I would have just sat down on his cock and fucked him, and to hell with the consequences.

"Lay down, on your back," Sanjay ordered, his voice surprisingly gentle. "Lay back, and play with yourself, Mom. I want to watch you come."

I was so fucking horny, I didn't even think about arguing. I let myself fall back, stretched out my legs, and spread them wide, right in front of him. Then I allowed my fingers to move to my pussy, to my clit, and brought myself off within a few minutes.

I fingered myself, while he watched me. I played with my slick clit, I shoved two fingers into my cunt and fucked myself, and I came almost instantly. I moaned, loud. I am not sure if I screamed as I came, but I thought it was very likely. I let my stepson watch me masturbate, shamelessly, without any inhibitions. I let him watch me have an orgasm, right in front of him, while his cum was still dripping off my tits.

Afterwards, I felt ashamed, and I curled up into a ball and cried. When I had calmed down, SJ had disappeared. The movie was still playing. A different bimbo was getting fucked in the ass, and I wondered if that was what my future held.

May 27

It has become a regular thing. SJ comes down in the morning, usually naked, and I have to jerk him off while he eats his breakfast. I have to be naked as well, the whole time. Every morning.

After his first cum, he goes off to school, and I do my housework, go shopping, of course without panties, prepare dinner, still naked under my short skirt. Everything has to be ready before he comes home. Some days, Tom phones, due to the time difference usually around noon. I tell him things are going great, his son and I are getting along, everything is fine. What else am I supposed to tell him? Tom is happy with what he hears and has stopped yelling at me. He tells me he will be home in a couple of months.

SJ is now coming straight home from school, unlike before when he would always hang around with his friends in the afternoon. Now, he'd rather play with his slut. He makes me open the door for him naked. I have to hold the door wide open, while he takes his time coming in. He told me that he thinks that it turns me on, displaying myself to the neighbours like that.

He is right. Not that there is much chance of someone actually seeing me standing in the door, but there is some risk, and the idea of anyone catching me opening the door to my stepson in the nude really does turn me on.

We spend the afternoons mostly in his room, doing homework. Or to be exact, I do his homework, while he plays with my tits, my cunt, my ass. Normally he gets me so worked up that I beg him to allow me to play with myself. If he allows me to do it, which is not very often, I have to do it in front of the window. To make sure nobody sees me, I try to hurry up. SJ thinks it is very funny how I try to make myself come as quickly as I can, while he knows that I am terrified at being seen while I'm masturbating. Of course, not only do I have to do it in front of the window, but also completely in the nude. While I'm doing it, he makes fun of me because of the way I'm also being turned on by the thought of somebody seeing me.

At night, we sometimes watch TV, sometimes a movie. I am naked while carrying out SJ's orders. He either makes me give him a hand job, or he makes me play with myself while he jerks off, not allowing me to come. Or he makes me crawl around on all fours, my ass high in the air, my tits swaying. He loves looking at me in that position and quite often gets very horny so that I have to masturbate him a second or even third time.

In the beginning, I often cried. I felt ashamed, having to follow SJ's perverted orders and participate in his dirty games, but soon I became accustomed to them. My embarrassment is still there, but I now realize that it is partly that embarrassment, the shame of being nude in front of my son, that turns me on.

Today, he forced me to give him his first blowjob. Well, I don't know if it was his first, but it was the first time I had his cock in my mouth. He made me jerk his cock as usual while he was having breakfast when he suddenly told me to get on my knees in front of him. "You're going to suck me off now, Mom," he told me. I had been expecting it. I was even surprised that it took so long for him to get the idea.

So, I got on my knees. I knew it wasn't going to take long, seeing as he had already been very close to an orgasm earlier. I licked over the head of his cock, played with my tongue underneath, licked the pre-cum from the head. Then, I looked at his eyes while I opened my mouth wide and took him in, all the way. I sucked, and I licked. He came almost immediately, not giving me time to get used to his dick in my mouth. He shot his cum into my mouth, and I kept sucking and licking until he was done, empty, soft.

I swallowed everything.

May 29

Today, when my son (I'm not going to call him stepson anymore, even though it's technically correct) came home from school, I waited for him at the door, naked, like every other day for the last 12 days. This time though, he told me to get dressed.

"Are we going out?" I asked him, but he shook his head. "No, we're having company." I was surprised, but I had learned not to argue with him. The last time I had refused to follow one of his orders, I had spent the night tied up and naked, with a large, remote-controlled, vibrator in my pussy, turned on and off at random intervals by my son from next door. Nobody can imagine how horny I was the next morning.

SJ followed me into my bedroom. He opened the closet and started picking out clothes for me to wear. Thin, almost see-through lace panties, a matching bra, a red wraparound skirt, and a bright yellow blouse. The blouse was the only item I had a problem with since the bra and panties would be hidden, and the skirt was a comfortable, knee-length item.

"I can't wear the blouse, SJ, it is way too tight. I bought that thing ten years ago. I have gained a little weight since then, Hon."

SJ grinned. "I know, Mom, and you've gained it in all the right places. See if the blouse will still fit."

It still felt weird, letting my son watch me get dressed in front of him. I was able to get into the blouse, and even close the buttons, but it was way too tight over my breasts. My boobs were in danger of popping the buttons and bursting out at any second.

"Perfect," commented my son. "Just what I was looking for."

I blushed, but held my tongue and didn't argue. Maybe I would be alright if I was very careful while breathing in.

When I was dressed, we went back down into the kitchen. "So, who is going to be coming?" I asked. As soon as I said it, I knew that was a mistake.

"Both of us, hopefully," laughed SJ. "But that's probably not what you meant, right? Carl is going to come over in about half an hour."

"Carl? Oh god, no, please not him. I couldn't look at him, after what I have done. And after what he has done. The little shit ratted me out, and told you all about it."

"Yes, and the little shit, as you so aptly call him, wants to get paid for not telling anyone about what you did. Don't complain to me about it, Mother. You're the one who just had to show off her tits to him, not me."

For the next ten minutes, I tried to persuade SJ to find another way, but without success. He insisted that I had to deal with Carl at some point, and Carl wanted that to be today. In fact, Carl seemed very eager. The doorbell rang well in advance of Carl's estimated arrival time.

"Okay, mom, now you go open the door and be nice to him. Remember that he could still tell my father all about what you did."

"But it would be his word against mine, and Tom would believe me more than him, I'm sure," I tried one more time.

"Maybe, but not if I tell him that I saw you do exactly what Carl says you did. I'm on his side here. After all, without him, I would have never found out what a little slut you are, and I owe him for that. Now open the door."

The bell rang again. The little shit was really impatient. I went to open the door. Carl stood outside, a big grin appearing on his face as he saw my tight blouse, with my tits almost blowing the buttons off and busting out.

"Hi, Mrs. Sellers, how are you? I'm here to see SJ, is he here? Sorry, I'm a little early, I wasn't supposed to be here until four."

Why are you staring at my tits, if you're here to see SJ? "Hello, Carl. That's okay, come on in. SJ is in the kitchen. You know the way."

"After you, Mrs. Sellers." My, my, he was just as polite as before. At least, I assumed it was politeness, at least until I closed the front door and walked ahead of Carl towards the kitchen. The whole way, I could feel his eyes on my ass like slimy hands.

The kitchen was empty. "SJ?"

"In the living room. Would you please bring us some cake and some whipped cream?" Sure, anything to get out from under Carl's stares.

When I walked into the living room with the cake, and a big can of 'Reddi-Whip', Carl and SJ were sitting on two chairs, opposite the couch. I placed the cake and some soft drinks on the table and asked, "Anything else, guys?"

"No, mom, just sit over on the couch."

"But I have lots of stuff to do, and wouldn't you guys rather be alone and talk about boy stuff?" I didn't think this was going to work, and it didn't.

"No, Mom, we want you to sit right over there on the couch."

Reluctantly I sat down, tucked my skirt under and crossed my legs like a proper lady.

"Now, Carl, what do you want from her?" SJ asked without preamble.

Carl looked at me, then back at my son. "I... I want to... I want her to do what she did the last time."

I turned red. "Now, Carl, look, be reasonable, I..."

"Mom," interrupted SJ, "don't argue, do what he wants."

Slowly, I moved my hands to the top button on my blouse. Again, SJ interrupted. "No, Mom, just take a really, really deep breath."

I blushed even more. My lips started to tremble with suppressed emotions. I didn't want to. I had no choice. But I didn't want to.

I inhaled, slowly, as deeply as I could. I saw my breasts move outward. I saw the buttons on my blouse straining, the material getting tighter and tighter. More and more air entered my lungs, putting more pressure on the thin blouse, as well as the buttons. Something had to give.

'Pling.' Shit! 'Pling.' The top two buttons gave way, flying halfway across the room. My bra was not covered by the blouse at all anymore.

"Now you can undo the rest of them, mom." SJ seemed to really enjoy the situation, judging by the smile on his face, while Carl sat there with his mouth hanging open, drooling.

I undid the last three buttons, slowly, like my son had told me, not looking at either of the boys.

"Do you want her to take it off?" The question was directed at Carl, who nodded his head eagerly. "Yeah, I want to see her tits."

"Okay, the bra, too, then."

I felt like a hooker, as I stripped out of my blouse and my bra in front of the boys. And as I sat there, topless, in front of the two teenagers, I looked at their faces, I saw their eyes, and that's when it happened again: I started to get aroused!

What the fuck is wrong with me? I'm getting turned on because two boys are staring at my naked tits, and I know that they are getting hard under their shorts. I felt alive, appreciated, desirable. Hot. Horny. I knew what the next command was going to be, and if I was honest with myself, I couldn't wait.

And then it came. "Take your skirt off, mom."

"No," yelled Carl.

What? What happened? He didn't want to see me without my skirt?

"Spread your legs. Let us look up your skirt, just like you did it last time."

Oh no, he wanted to look. He was just more of a pervert than I had thought.

It didn't matter to my pussy. Spreading my legs, letting the skirt slowly ride up until my panties became visible, was making me just as hot as having to take it off. Maybe more.

"Can I make her take the panties off?" Carl asked. I felt more and more like a piece of meat. Nobody was asking my opinion, my permission. Even Carl seemed to know that my son was in charge, that he had complete control over me.

"Of course, you can make her do anything," SJ replied, which made me blush again.

"Take your panties off, Mrs. Sellers. Stand up and do it."

I stood in front of the couch and lifted my skirt, without letting the boys see more than a bit of leg. I grabbed the elastic of my panties and slowly pulled them down, slid them down my legs.

Carl smiled. "That's good," he said happily. "Now sit down, and spread your legs again."

I did as ordered, and soon my naked pussy came into view. Carl stared, fascinated, and even SJ, although he had seen me naked many times by then, couldn't seem to take his eyes off my cunt.

For five long minutes, I sat there, in this humiliating position, before Carl finally told me to take the skirt off. "I want to finally see you all naked, Mrs. Sellers," he informed me.

"Wanna take your dick out and play with yourself?" Sanjay asked, and Carl quickly agreed. "But only if you do it, too," he added.

Both boys dropped their shorts and took out their cocks. Carl's was a bit longer and thicker than SJ's, but I don't think either one of them was concerned with their respective sizes at that time. For the next half hour, their eyes were only on me.

They used me! They used me like they would use a porn magazine, a porn movie. They made me assume various positions, both on the couch and on the floor. They made me play with myself. They made me pull on my nipples. They made me bend over and show them my ass. They made me crawl on the floor, towards them, away from them. They made me shake my tits.

And the whole time, they had their cocks in their hands.

And the whole time, my cunt was getting wetter. I loved it, every minute of it. I was embarrassed, ashamed, humiliated. And wet, wetter than ever before.

I also found out why my son had wanted the cake: as an excuse for the whipped cream. And the whipped cream? About halfway through my 'performance', SJ grabbed the can of Reddi-Whip and ordered me to crawl to him and lay on my back in front of him. He sprayed whipped cream all over my body, staring at my tits, down over my belly, my pussy, my legs. Then he made me rub it all in until my skin was gleaming with the cream and the oil.

That was also when Carl couldn't hold back anymore. Sitting on his chair in front of me, he shot his first load of cum all over my body, mixing it with the whipped cream. I hardly noticed. I just kept rubbing it all in. SJ followed a few seconds later, adding his own cream to my body.

Both boys stayed rock hard and kept jerking off until Carl asked if they could get me to do it instead. "Of course," SJ replied. "We can even make her give us a blowjob."

"No way." Carl clearly did not believe him.

Sanjay only smiled. "Let me show you. Mom, sit back down on the couch." He knelt beside me, his cock in front of my face. "Now show Carl how you suck cock. And look at him while you do it."

SJ always found new ways to add to my humiliation. Having to look at Carl's unbelieving eyes as I sucked off my son was a new low, like doing it in front of a camera, and therefore made me even hornier.

Before I knew what was happening, both Carl and SJ were kneeling on either side of me, and I was taking turns sucking and masturbating both boy's cocks. I had one in each hand, and the tip of one - sometimes both at the same time - in my mouth. Which left no hands to play with myself, unfortunately. I sat there on the couch, taking care of the boys, while I got hotter by the minute. Their hands were all over my body, but mostly on my tits, rubbing in whipped cream; never long enough between my legs to get me off, only long enough to get me hotter.

"Oh God, I'm coming."

Five times I heard that during the next hour. Four times, I had a boy shoot his cum into my mouth. Four times, I swallowed. As ordered. The fifth time, Carl wanted to shoot all over my tits, and of course, my son generously allowed his friend to come on his mother again.

When they finally had had enough, they both sat down again in their chairs.

"Well, mom, that was great, but what about you?" asked SJ. "You didn't come yet, did you?" I shook my head. "Well, tell you what. You can either leave now, take a shower, maybe eat something, then go to bed early. You must be tired. But, if you decide to do that, you can not get yourself off. You will not masturbate, or, to be exact, you will not have an orgasm until tomorrow. I'll be watching, and you won't be able to do it, believe me.

"On the other hand, if you want to, you can make yourself come right now, right here."

"Here? Now?"

"Here and now, with both of us watching. What do you say, mom?"

I was so horny! I didn't want to do it in front of them, but the thought of waiting until the next day brought fresh tears to my eyes. I couldn't wait, I just couldn't.

But, as horny as I was, I couldn't do it. I tried, but the humiliation of having to do this in front of the two boys was just too much. My body was willing, even eager, but my mind would not - could not - forget that I was naked in front of two teenagers, one of whom was my son.

And so I tried for a long time, sitting naked, legs spread wide, pussy dripping, whipped cream and cum drying on my body, to get myself to an orgasm.

I couldn't do it. I just couldn't.

"So," SJ exclaimed after a long time, "then I guess you'll have to wait until tomorrow, right?"

"No, please, SJ, please let me come," I pleaded with my son, who smiled cruelly. "Of course, Mother, you may come, just do it."

"I can't," I almost cried. "I can't do it in front of you."

"What do you think, Carl? Should we allow her to go to the bathroom and make herself come?"

Carl didn't even think about it. "No, I want to see it, I want to see her get herself off. I want to watch her."

"Well, Mom, you heard him. So again, either do it here, in front of us or wait until tomorrow morning."

I knew it was no use; I just could not make myself come in front of the two boys, I was too ashamed"I... I'll wait."

May 30

It was one of the longest nights of my life. After Carl left, SJ made me prepare a quick dinner, and after an hour of TV, he sent me to bed, like a child. He followed me into my bedroom, and he watched me. I somewhat expected him to come into my bed, but he stayed in a chair. Several times I tried to reason with him, tried to argue, but he was adamant that I not make myself come until the morning, and so I finally gave up and tried to sleep.

In the morning, after maybe two hours of fitful sleep and a lot of tossing and turning, I got up. SJ was asleep in the chair, and I let him sleep until after I made breakfast and coffee; lots of coffee, I was going to need it.

As usual, I had to stay naked during breakfast. SJ wore a bathrobe, the belt undone, so I was aware not only of his eyes on my tits and ass the whole time, but also of his hard-on whenever I had to get up to bring him more coffee, or another pancake.

"May..." I swallowed, trying to moisten my throat which was as dry as sandpaper. "May I please..." I looked at my son, who stared back at me, giving no indication that he was going to make this easier on me. "May I please come now?" I finally got out.

"Already? We just got up, Mom. Can't you wait until the afternoon?" SJ grinned.

"No. You promised. You said I could come in the morning, SJ. Please? I... I don't think I can wait any longer," I begged.

SJ took a minute, pretending to think about it, before finally nodding his head affirmatively. "Okay, Mom, you can get yourself off now, but I want to watch. Come on, let's go."

What? I had figured he would want to watch me, but... I didn't understand. SJ got up and closed his bathrobe. Moving towards the hallway, I followed him, hoping we would go to one of the bedrooms, although so far he had always made me masturbate for him in the kitchen.

No such luck! SJ turned towards the dining room, and then towards the big glass patio doors. 'Oh shit, he's going to make me do it in front of the doors?' I thought to myself, but instead, SJ opened the doors and walked out onto the patio, where he grabbed one of the lounge chairs and sat down.

I carefully stood beside the open doors, trying to get my son's attention. "SJ, what are you doing? SJ? I thought..."

"Come on, Mom, you want to get off, don't you? So get out here, grab a chair. And make sure to come as you are."

Shit! What if one of the neighbours heard that? Didn't he care at all? Did he really expect me to go out there and masturbate, on our patio, which was visible from at least two neighbouring houses? Most likely everybody was at work, but I didn't know for sure.

"What's the matter? Don't you want an orgasm, Mom?" SJ yelled loudly.

I did! I really, really needed to come.

After a quick glance at the windows, I could see from the patio door and not seeing anybody, I dashed across the three yards to the nearest lounge chair and dragged it in front of SJ's chair. I sat down quickly, pulling up my knees to my chest, trying to hide both my boobs and my pussy from any possible voyeurs.

Of course, SJ had other plans. "Stretch out, Mom, and catch some rays, get a bit of a tan. You look a little pale this morning."

Anxiously glancing around, I stretched out my legs. My thoughts were in turmoil. Was somebody watching me? Were any of the neighbours even home? I didn't want to be seen, but I was extremely horny, and I knew that I didn't really have a choice. If I didn't do this, SJ would make me wait, maybe another day. He would tease me, make me even hornier, and then just repeat the whole thing tomorrow.

I opened my legs, just enough to touch my dripping wet pussy, and began rubbing my clit. Instantly, I was just as horny as I had been the night before. I was still afraid that someone might be watching me, but I tried to tell myself that nobody was.

Within seconds, I began moaning. My pussy felt like it was on fire. I could see SJ's penis growing out of his bathrobe, and he grabbed it and began moving his hand slowly up and down. Watching him made me want to come even more, and I spread my legs further.

"You really are a horny slut, aren't you?" my son asked.

"I am very horny," I admitted breathlessly, rubbing my clit faster.

"No, that's not what I asked you. You are a horny slut, right?"

"I am horny, but I am not a slut," I protested.

"You're masturbating out here on the patio, where any of the neighbours could catch you, in front of your son, and you're not a slut?"

"No. You are making me do this. This is all your fault, and it doesn't make me a slut." I really tried to believe that.

SJ grinned and reached into a pocket on his robe, pulling out something and tossing it over to me. It was one of our cordless phones.

"Here, Mom, I think it's time you called Dad. You haven't talked to him in several days, and it's time you told him again how great you are getting along with your stepson. With the time difference, he should be off work by now."

"I can't... I am... You want me to..." I was speechless, but I continued playing with myself. Finally, I got it out. "You want me to call your Dad now? Please, SJ, I am so close, I only need a couple more minutes, can't I call him after?"

"You don't understand, Mother. I want you to call him now, while you're playing with your wet cunt in front of your stepson. I want you to make yourself come, while you're on the phone with him."

"No, SJ, please, don't make me do that. I don't think I could."

"Well, you can always stop now, and we'll forget the whole thing. Of course, then you won't come, and that would be a shame, seeing as you are already so close. But you can always wait until tomorrow."

I thought about it for about three seconds. I needed to come, I wanted my orgasm, and if I refused to do it now, SJ would make me do the whole thing again later. I had no choice, he would get his way in the end, no matter what I did.

I pushed the speed dial button for my husband's number and listened to the ring tone. I was hoping that maybe he wouldn't pick up, that maybe he was still at work, or at dinner, but no such luck. Instead, he picked up on the second ring, almost as if he had been waiting for my call.

While I talked to my husband on the phone, I continued to play with my clit, and I kept watching SJ jerking his cock. He had a big smile on his face as he kept staring at me, occasionally licking his lips, pretending to be licking me instead.

I have no idea what my husband and I talked about, only that I didn't say very much. The situation was turning me on, against all my expectations. Talking to my husband on the phone while I masturbated, at the same time looking at my son playing with his cock, thinking about possibly being watched by unseen eyes while having SJ staring at my fingers masturbating my wet pussy, it didn't take long for me to come. I tried desperately to suppress my moaning during my orgasm, and the net effect was that my orgasm was not very satisfying.

Afterwards, I remember using some dumb 'oops, gotta go, someone at the door' kind of excuse to end the call to my husband. Oh well, he had done that to me more than once.

SJ looked at me. "You really are a hot, horny slut, aren't you? Jerking off while you talk to your husband, in front of your son?"

I didn't reply. "Want to do it again?" SJ asked, still playing with his cock.

'Yes,' a part of my brain screamed. The same part that, despite my shame and humiliation, or perhaps because of it, had actually enjoyed the perverted situation, as well as my slutty behaviour. I could tell myself that I didn't have a choice, that I was being forced to do all this, but then why had my pussy become so wet? Why did I have an orgasm so quickly? Yesterday, I had been unable to come, because two boys had been watching me. Today, only one was watching for sure, but there could have been - could still be - more than one behind those windows, and I had just talked to my husband on the phone about the weather, while I had a couple of fingers buried in my cunt and brought myself to orgasm in front of my son and who knows who else. Was I really a slut? Did I enjoy all this?

"Yes," I whispered, "I want to come again."

"Then spread your legs, as wide as you can. If someone is watching, I want you to give them a good show, Mother. And don't hold yourself back, this time. I want to hear you come, my little horny slut."

I didn't reply, but spread my legs as ordered, letting them hang down over the sides of the lounge chair. 'If someone is watching you, they can now see everything,' I thought to myself, and that thought got my juices flowing immediately, and my fingers got busy again.

"Yes, Mother, that's it, work that clit. Rub your wet, slutty cunt for me. You're really horny, aren't you?"

"Yes," I answered his whispered questions.

"Are you a horny slut, Mother?"

"No, I'm not."

"Do you know that people could be watching you right now? I am watching you, Mom, and I am really enjoying the show. Look, Mom, look at me jerking off for you. Look at how hard my cock is for you. Are you as horny as I am?"

"Yes," I panted. "Yes, I am."

"Are you going to come for me?"

"Yes," I almost screamed, plunging two fingers deep into my wet cunt.

"Do you like it when I watch you?"

"Yes," I admitted. "Yes, I love it. I love showing myself to you. I love making you hot and horny."

I was close, real close, and SJ was pumping his fist up and down his cock like a madman, like a machine.

"Do you like me watching you when you come, Mom? Do you want to come for me?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to come for your son, Mom?"

"Yes, yes, I'm almost there."

"Are you hot? Does it make you horny, showing yourself to whoever might be watching?"

"Yes, I love showing off, I love being watched."

"And did you like talking to your husband, while you masturbated in front of his son?"

"Yes, I loved it," I blurted out. "I wish he could have seen it."

"Are you a horny slut, Mom?"

"I... yes... no..."

"Are you horny, Mom?"

"Oh yes, yes, I'm going to come, I'm..."

"Are you a slut, Mom?"

"Yes, yes, I'm coming, oh yes, I'm gonna..."

"Are you a slut, Mom?"

"Yes," I screamed, fucking myself with my fingers and rubbing my clit with my other hand.

SJ jumped up from his chair and stood directly in front of me, pumping his cock. "Are you my slut, Mom?" he asked again.

"Yes, yes, I am, I am a slut, I am your slut, yes," I finally admitted to myself as SJ's cock erupted. Stream after stream of hot cum shot all over my fingers and my belly.

That was all I needed. I came, and I screamed my pleasure out, not caring who heard me. I was coming, and that was all that mattered. I had no more inhibitions at that moment. I wanted to feel my son's hot cum on my body. I wanted to let him know how hot I was. I wanted him to see me come, and I didn't hold anything back, pressing and rubbing my clit and my insides, milking the last bit of pleasure from this incredible orgasm, until I finally collapsed in my chair.

I felt hot breath on my lips, then other lips touching mine. I opened my eyes to see SJ's face right in front of mine, his lips tenderly kissing mine.

"Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you, my slut."

November 17

Sanjay always calls me his slut these days, at least whenever we are alone.

And he is right. I have become his slut. I am his, to do with as he pleases.

My husband came home a couple of months after that day when I masturbated on the patio in front of my son. The first time, I should say, since I had to do this many times since.

That night, my son fucked me for the first time. Actually, that is not quite right: I fucked him. He lay on his back and told me to fuck him, and I did. I took his cock and put it inside my cunt, and I lowered myself down until he was buried all the way inside me, and I moved myself up and down his shaft until he came deep inside me.

We have fucked many times since. He enjoys humiliating me, so most of the time he makes me so horny that I can't stand it anymore, and then he makes me beg him to let me fuck him. He doesn't always say yes, either. Sometimes I am not allowed to do anything at all. Sometimes he makes me masturbate to orgasm in front of him. Sometimes, he makes me play with myself until I almost come, and then stop. Then, I beg him to fuck me again. Sometimes, I beg him for a long, long time.

He has fucked me, and he has also made me fuck his friends. He especially enjoys it when I come while fucking his friends because he knows this makes me feel cheap and ashamed. Or when I am forced to masturbate in front of them. I don't have a problem coming in front of them anymore, but I still feel ashamed, which is of course why my son enjoys it so much.

Whenever my husband is not at home, I am always naked. I clean the house naked, and his friends come over to watch and to jerk off. Sometimes I am ordered to fuck them, or to suck their cocks, but most of the time they just use me as masturbation material.

When my husband is home, SJ's friends stay away, but that doesn't mean I don't get sex. My son has used me by forcing me to let him touch me, while my husband is sitting in the living room, watching TV or reading the paper while my son plays with my cunt and brings me off, in the kitchen behind the counter, ten feet from my husband. The sheer perversity of this makes me come every time, and I struggle to keep from screaming when I come.

I have also had to sneak out of bed in the middle of the night to go to my son's room and fuck him. Twice, he had a number of his friends over, and I had to fuck and suck them, as well as my son, until they were all satisfied. Then, they made me wash up, and go back to bed. I was still so horny, I masturbated on my bed until my husband woke up and caught me and then fucked me as well.

When Tom is out of the country, I am my son's plaything. He makes me suck his friends, give them handjobs, or just get on my hands and knees and let them use my cunt and my ass as they wish. They sometimes pay him for it, which makes me feel like a whore, and they don't pay him much, which makes me feel like a cheap whore. A quarter for a blowjob, fifty cents for a fuck, ten cents extra if they want to come on me. Once, I made $22.50 for my son in a single day.

It's not a bad life, really. One could get used to it. There are no more bad vibes, we talk, we have fun; things are okay between my son and I, and when I have his cock buried in my cunt, or in my mouth, or in my ass, or even if I just get him off with my hands, I know my son loves me, and I finally feel like a real mother..