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All of Mommy's Men - by Tricia
I hate to wake him up. He looks so sweet when he's sleeping. He always has. My little boy, my little man.
Of course now when I see that innocent-looking face and his young body outlined under the sheet, my body reacts and my hands instinctively reach out to touch him in a most un-motherly way.
"Sweetie, wake up," I say softly as my hand strokes his shoulder, then his chest and down his belly.
He stirs and rolls flatter onto his back, revealing his stiffening cock beginning to raise the sheet. As much as I want to touch it, as satisfying as I know his response would be, I force myself to focus on the reason I came into his room tonight.
"Baby, you have to wake up now. I have to talk to you." His eyes open and he smiles at me. I smile weakly, then can't hide the pain I feel in the pit of my stomach. "We're in trouble, sweetie. He found out. He knows what we've been doing and He wants us both out there now."
Fear crosses his sweet face, "Is poker night over? I'm not allowed out there during poker night," he says, confused, barely awake and trying to grasp what might be happening.
I can barely make my voice heard; the sounds come out so weakly. "No, poker night isn't over."
Before we step out of his bedroom and into the hall, I explain. "Baby, the reason you've never been allowed out of your room during poker night is because, well Mommy's boyfriend requires a lot from me in exchange for taking care of us, as you know. "
He nods, looking down at the ground. I know he dreams of the day he will be able to take care of us so I won't need to depend on men like my cruel boyfriend.
"I always serve snacks and drinks and wear the sexy clothes He likes for Him and His friends, but ..." I take a deep breath. I had hoped I'd never have to tell my baby what his mother did in exchange for room and board. " but after they've been drinking a while, they like other things from me. And He requires that I do whatever they ask. Some of them ask for a lot. They like me to do the same things for them that you like and even some things you haven't learned to like yet."
His eyes open wide. His face is a mix of shock, anger and jealousy. "I'm sorry, honey. I didn't want you to ever find out. But well He knows about us." I pause, unsure how to go on. "He figured it out, and then he spied on us to be sure. He was watching us yesterday when you were making mommy feel so good with your mouth he saw it all. He saw how much I love it when you're inside my mouth. That made him particularly angry, and now he says now he says if you're using my mouth then your mouth belongs to him. You owe him for 'using' me, he says." I grab him and wrap my arms around him tightly. I want to comfort him even before he realizes what is happening. "I'm so sorry, baby. I don't know what to do. He'll kick us out; we'll have nowhere to live. He's waiting. We have to go out there."
My brave young man only takes a few moments to decide that he'll do whatever I ask, even if he doesn't understand. With my promise that I'll be right there with him, we make our way out into the living room where the party has been continuing.
My boyfriend has lewd, perverted friends. When they see me walk out with my arm around my sweet, loving son, they immediately begin the catcalls and yelling. He's wearing pajama pants and no shirt, and they imply that we were fucking while we were gone. My baby turns red from his face all the way down his chest to his belly as he stands on display in front of all these drunken men who are so much older than he.
My boyfriend orders us to stand in the middle of the room where everyone can see us. They have all settled back on the sofas and chairs. I'm familiar with their positions; it is usually my job to give each of them a blow job by now.
"So, did you fuck the little bastard again, Tricia?" He says, sneeringly. "Or did you just suck him off real quick with that greedy little whore mouth of yours?"
I give him an angry look and say, "Of course not!"
"You're a lying bitch! Show us his cock. I bet it's covered with cum - his or yours."
He pushes me behind my son and places my hand on the waistband of his pants and hisses threateningly in my ear, "DO IT!"
I dare not disobey so I whisper, tearfully, in my baby's ear, "I'm so sorry," as I pull his pants down to his ankles. He's wearing nothing underneath, so he's left exposed and embarrassed in front of this crowd of horny men. He tries to cover himself, but I know from experience that's unwise.
I whisper in his ear, "Don't. He'll just get angry."
He looks at the ground but stands still, naked with his pants around his ankles, while grown men look him up and down. I know he wishes he could disappear into the floor.
One of the men speaks up, laughingly, "I know she wasn't fucking THAT." He nods disparagingly at my boy's flaccid cock.
My boyfriend sneers again. "You're right. Maybe he couldn't get it up. Does it work, boy? Show us it still works today like it did when I saw you fucking my woman yesterday! And you keep your filthy whore paws off of it, Tricia!"
I understand what he wants, so I stand behind him and whisper in his ear, "I'm right here, baby. Mommy is right here get it hard for them they want to see your beautiful cock, baby."
With me cooing in his ear, encouraging him, hands on his shoulders, body pressed to his back, my son begins to stroke his cock in front of the assembled audience. Their eyes lock onto him as he quickly coaxes it into its full, hard state. The veins along its length are bulging, and the head is swollen and nearly purple. They can't help but be impressed, as I always am, at how ready he is, under any circumstances, to perform. Even once it's hard, he doesn't stop. He keeps up the rhythmic, long strokes, squeezing the swollen head, and fondling his heavy balls. Precum bubbles out of the tip, and he spreads it over the head and shaft, making it shine. It's quite a mesmerizing performance. I hear small moans escape his lips, and I feel my body respond powerfully, as well.
Before long, I realize that I'm not the only one aroused. I hear zippers being pulled, and I look up. The men watching are all starting to pull their cocks out to stroke them. A crowd of men, all with erect eager, needy cocks lined up and ready. This, I have seen. I know what's next, and I whisper, "I'll help you, son."
"Get over there, boy!" my boyfriend orders, pushing him toward the assortment of erections. "Take over your mama's job."
He looks at me, concerned and confused. I repeat. "I'll help you," as I kneel with him in front of the first man he falls in front of.
He knows me. He's had his cock in my mouth every week for months now. I'm used to the way it curves as it hardens and how it's smooth with only a few protruding veins. He's got one of the largest cocks in the room and he's always quick to pull it out and show it off. "Are you as good a cock sucker as your mama, boy?" the man asks, with a laugh.
We ignore him, and I place my hand on the back of my never-to-be-innocent-again son's head and guide his mouth toward the hard-and-waiting cock. "Just relax your mouth. Keep it wet. Use your tongue. Think about what you like when mama has you in her mouth "
His lips wrap gingerly around the cockhead, and before he gets a chance to do anything else, the man's hand is on the back of his head pushing his mouth down. The cock is deep in his throat, nearly choking him, but he quickly adjusts to take it. He sputters as he pulls his mouth back along the length of the cock then, on his own this time, forces it all the way back in. Soon his lips are around the base of the long cock and he's deep-throating like a natural.
I stroke him along his back, head, and face, encouraging him any way that I can. His eyes are closed, and he's focused on doing his job: making this cock cum. And, before long, it's clear that is imminent. The man's body arches and thrusts forward and he says, "God damn it, boy. You're going to make me cum!" His wet, young mouth moves faster up and down the stiff cock and holds tightly as the spasms indicate that spurts of cum are being unloaded inside his mouth. He looks up to watch the older man's orgasmic face as he swallows every spurt, then gently releases the cock while carefully capturing every last drop of cum.
He looks over to me for approval but before I get a chance to show my pride, another cock has appeared ready to be sucked.
The man is standing with his thick, mushroom-headed cock in his hand, stroking it. He roughly pulls my son up high on his knees. Disoriented for only a moment, it doesn't take long before he's on task and takes the cock from the man's hand and begins stroking it, feeding it into his mouth. His mouth and hand move up and down the cock, lubricated now with the cum that remained in his mouth. With me whispering encouraging words and stroking him as he works, he moves his head vigorously, taking the cock deep each time. His mouth is so wet now that drool is escaping from the corners of his mouth. He takes it deep and holds it as he massages the man's full, tight balls, then resumes fucking him with his mouth, sometimes popping the fat head in and out, until the man is ready to explode.
I'm not at all surprised when this man extracts his cock from my son's eager mouth and chooses to shoot his load on his young face instead, as he always has with me. I'm leaned in so close that some of it splashes onto my face, which wins a smug smile from the now-satisfied man.
Seeing it, my dutiful son leans over and kisses it off my cheek, then looks into my eyes, questioningly, wondering if he's meeting with my approval.
I smile at him, proudly, wiping at his face a bit. "You're doing great. Mama's good little boy."
"Thanks, mom," he says with a grin. Then eagerly asks, "So, do you think we can do the next one together?"
[to be continued -on the phone?]