They were barely past a half hour into the movie Elliott had chosen before Tanya spoke. "Elliott, I just can't get into watching anything tonight. I think I'll just go up to my room and read. Do you mind, sweetheart?"
Elliott realized the visit from the three bullies was playing on his mother's mind just as much as his. "No, that's okay. I'm not into it either. I think I'll just go on my computer for a while."
"All right, good," Tanya said as she got up from the couch. "It'll be an early night for both of us."
Elliott turned the lights out and followed his mother upstairs. The double doors to the master bedroom were closed as he made his way to his own room further down the hall. He liked that his room was the furthest from his mother's. It allowed him the privacy he liked when he jacked off, the space between the rooms deadening any sounds that he didn't want her to hear. He loved using Vaseline when he whacked off, and the sticky slapping sound sometimes got loud when he was really pounding one off.
He booted up his computer and was just about to open the bottom drawer of his desk to retrieve his jar of lube when his phone pinged. He looked down at the screen, surprised to see that it was a text from Jamal:
Hey Smallcox, what size bra does your mother wear?
Elliott looked at the screen, shocked by Jamal's question. He quickly typed out his response:
I have no idea.
He stared at his screen after he sent it, noticing that Jamal was typing a response. After a considerable amount of time, a lengthy message appeared:
Don't give me no bullshit about you don't know. I saw the look in your eyes when you were scoping out her tits at dinner. I know you're a fucking little perv, and if I had a momma like yours, I'd be whacking off about her every day. So cut to the chase and just give me the bra size.
Elliott stared at the message as he started to flush, realizing Jamal had seen right through him. As he sat there wondering what to do, another message popped up:
You don't wanna make me mad, do ya?
Elliott sighed as he re-read the new message. He knew better than to fuck with Jamal. He'd tried that in the ninth grade one time, ratting him out to a teacher for picking on him. He still remembered the sore arm he'd had when Jamal almost tore it out of the socket. Elliott's fingers went to his phone:
34E
He hit the send button and waited. Jamal's response didn't take long:
See, that wasn't so hard. You just keep helping me out like that, Smallcox, and we'll be good friends. You'd be surprised the ways that I can help YOU out. See ya tomorrow.
Elliott had seen the way Jamal and the other two had been eyeing up his mother, like jackals ready to sweep in for the kill. He couldn't blame them, and obviously Jamal had seen him looking at his mother the same way. He knew his mother was fucking hot. He didn't like the idea of those guys coming around like his mom had suggested, but if they left him alone, he figured he might as well give that tutoring shit a try. Nothing else he'd done had worked. Maybe if they came over, sat through a few tutoring lessons while they took the opportunity to ogle his stacked mom, well, that wouldn't be so bad, would it? They'd end up going home and jerking off thinking about his mom, just like he did. If his mom's presence was able to provide them with a little eye candy, Elliott knew that could only be good for him. But what did Jamal mean when he said Elliott would be surprised by the way Jamal could help HIM out? What could he do for Elliott besides teach him how to hotwire a car, or something like that. He couldn't figure it out. And then why did Jamal want to know his mother's bra size? Just so he could think about that when he jacked off? What the fuck was that all about?
Thinking about her bra size had started to get Elliott excited, so he went to his closet and rifled around in an old gym bag he had stashed there. He pulled out one of her bras and the matching panties he'd taken from her laundry basket a couple of days ago. She usually did laundry on Sundays so he just had to sneak it back into the basket before then. The bra set was a royal blue one, with delicate lace trim around the bra cups. The built-in wire reinforcing showed the full shape of the substantial bra. He looked inside the big curving cups, seeing the whitish crusty stains from the four loads he'd already shot into it over the past two days while he'd been licking and sucking at the crotch of her panties. He'd add at least two more loads tonight.
He went back to his computer and opened a picture folder he kept hidden deep in his files. He opened the folder called 'White'. It showed numerous thumbnails of his mother in a white bikini. She'd worn it last weekend and he'd taken the pictures from his bedroom window, using a zoom lens. The white bikini emphasized her huge tits spectacularly, and the tiny V-shaped bottom hugged her curvy bum teasingly. He set four of the pictures up side by side on his computer. Satisfied with his whacking material for this session, he pulled out his big jar of Vaseline, getting his hand all lubed up and ready to go. He looked over at her bra and panties he'd set down next to his computer, and then back at the pictures of his mother on the screen. Yes, that bra was going to get another nice pasting.