"That's good, baby. Mommy'll give you that lesson soon enough," Tanya said. "But I'm starting to feel pretty hungry. You must be too. You said you just had a sandwich earlier?"
"I am, kinda." Elliott nodded in agreement. As soon as the words left his mouth, something else occurred to him. He was afraid if the current spell he felt like he was living in was broken, his mother might change her mind. He knew he'd do anything to get his mouth back on his mother's pussy and he didn't want to risk upsetting what they were doing by breaking for any kind of food. All he was interested in right now was feeding from that seeping trough of hers. "But I'm okay, if...if you wanted to have that lesson right away. If that's what you'd like?" Elliott couldn't help but feel warmed by the knowing smile that spread over his mother's lovely face.
"My sweet boy, my sweet, sweet boy. Always ready to make Mommy happy." Tanya could sense the eagerness in her son's expression, and she knew there was no doubt that she'd be using that talented young tongue of his a lot from now on. "But I really need something to eat first. Don't worry, Mommy'll make sure her baby gets to feed from her later on." She accompanied her suggestive words with a coy smile that she saw made her son flush. "Do you think you can go down and put together something for us to eat? I think there's some leftovers in the fridge from the other night."
"Sure, Mom, I can do that," Elliott replied as he reached down and gathered up his clothes.
"Thanks, sweetheart. I'll be down in a few minutes. When I finish my shower, I want to paint my fingernails and toenails, just like Jamal asked."
Elliott noticed the contented smile on his mother's face when she mentioned Jamal's name, and he remembered the young black man telling his mother he wanted her nail polish to be red—bright red, and he wanted her to do that before the next time they came over. His mother seemed eager to comply with Jamal's wishes. It was obvious from that smile and the glow she seemed to have about her that she had loved being fucked over and over, and not just by Jamal—but by all three of them. All three of Elliott's bullies, the boys who had made his life a living hell for the past number of years. Elliott felt himself smiling inside, knowing all that was changing after today. "Okay, Mom, come down when you're ready. I'll put something together."
"Thanks, baby. I'll be down in a few minutes."
Elliott left his mother and made his way back into the bedroom. Even with the cum-soaked sheets in the washing machine, the room still reeked of sex. He went into his own and put on clean clothes after throwing his cum-soaked ones into the laundry. He piled down the stairs, his mind reeling at the thought of the 'lesson' his mother had promised him. He hoped he could prove himself worthy of her expectations. So far, she'd seemed pleased with his oral dexterity. Hopefully she'd continued to enjoy what he could do to her with his mouth. For Elliott, that would be a dream come true, and he didn't want to risk upsetting Jamal, or his mother, in any way.
Knowing that his mother's needs were what was important right now, he dug around in the fridge, looking for something to eat for both of them. He thought about making some scrambled eggs and toast, one of the few things he was capable of cooking. He felt disappointed in himself for not paying enough attention when his mother was cooking, or offering to help when she prepared their dinners. When scrambled eggs are about the limit of your ability at age 18, it really says something about your selfishness. Chastising himself, Elliott decided to do better.
His view of what was in the fridge settled on some leftover chicken stew they'd had a couple of nights before. "Just the thing," Elliott said to himself as he took the plastic container out of the fridge and transferred it to a pot. While the stew was warming up, he set the table, including a glass at each of their spots. He thought of Zeke's comment when he'd come down and gotten drinks for all of them earlier in the day, including a glass of milk for his mother. Zeke had said he didn't know if she wanted the milk to soothe her sore throat, or if she just wanted some more white stuff in her belly. From what Elliott had seen as his mother lay there in her bed passed out, her mouth overflowing with milky cum, she definitely had a bellyful of 'the white stuff'—thick, creamy, teenage semen. He wondered how many loads they'd made her swallow. But it was obvious from the way she was acting that she wasn't complaining one little bit. With a smile on his face, Elliott wondered if his mother would want milk with her dinner. If she wanted more 'white stuff' in her belly, he knew exactly where she could get some.
He checked on the stew a few times until it was heated through. Not sure how long his mother would be, he turned it down to simmer. As his hand left the dial, he heard his phone ping. He picked it up, the display showing a text from Jamal.
How is she?
Elliott quickly responded: Okay. She's taking a shower.
Jamal answered within seconds: Good. Did you get her cleaned up before that?
Elliott thought about all the cum he had lapped up, the taste still lingering on his breath.
Yes sir.
Did you clean her the way I want you to? Don't lie to me, Smallcox.
Yes sir. I did it the way you asked me to.
Great. Good boy. Make sure she gets plenty of sleep. I want her wide awake and ready to fuck when we come over tomorrow.
Even after everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, Elliott was still shocked by Jamal's blatant message. He sent back a short reply:
What time tomorrow?
Mid to late morning. We want to get an early start on that tutoring.
