Goodnite Kiss

[©2011 BY CLINTON09; ALL CHARACTERS OVER THE AGE OF 18; NO CHARACTERS OR EVENTS ARE CORRECT AS PRESENTED; THIS STORY IS TOLD WITHOUT RESERVE; READER SHOULD TAKE CARE AND NOTE: CONCLUSION VERY HARD EDGED; BRIEF INCIDENTS OF VIOLENCE; HERE BE DRAGONS. JUSTICE DICTATED THAT A MOTHER BE RESTORED AND A STEP-FATHER BROUGHT DOWN. READER MUST BE 25 OR ABOVE.]

[Son returns home to find his beautiful mother battered; how will he deal with it?]

*

Let me briefly set the table for you so that we can get to the main course. I was the only child of an average suburban couple. I had just turned 18 while my mom was only 33. Do the math and you'll see that she'd gotten into trouble early and had to marry. Insofar as I looked like her and not her 'old man' and towered above him (6'2" vs. 5'5"), one could wonder about my parentage. I never did—'water under the bridge' as it were.

Mom's 'old man', who was my father (my step-father in reality?), didn't feel that way. He resented my presence, especially as I began to tower over him physically and achievement-wise. In the classic 'displaced hostility', the 'old man' took it out on us, but mostly mom, with lectures, tirades, and even an occasional struggle when I wasn't around.

I should've known that her periodic black eyes were not due to simple broken capillaries. She stayed in that home only because her mother was a lifelong friend of his mother. Okay, there was also some family money involved. Anyway, mom would stay until I reached 18 and left for school.

I had just been accepted for a full scholarship to a really good college that summer [U.Michigan.] That should've thrilled my 'old man' but no. He'd gotten only a GED and was jealous. He was already intimidated by my burgeoning size and power, so any more accolades would only make him feel inadequate before our friends and family.

For his part, he'd been given three businesses as wedding presents and had promptly driven them into the ground. Our family had to combine the three businesses into one company barely breaking even.

My mother's 'old man' had insisted that my mom have a baby by him. I wondered if this was related to me; was he feeling antagonized by my relative success? Was he uncertain of whether I was sired by him? Perhaps he just wanted to do it to re-assert himself over my gorgeous mother.

In any event, he tried for six months to 'do the deed' to no avail. I once overheard my mom gossiping to her sister that he was all of 3 inches—his output only 3 eye drops worth.

Well, he didn't give up and spent a fortune (which we could ill afford) to have a fertility clinic convert a month's worth of his 'output' into something viable. If my mother got pregnant from that it only meant she was incredibly fertile.

Now, my mom was already hot, a true MILF. Blonde hair, blue eyes, a bit of a button nose; she didn't need anything else. However, at only 33, she still had the Playmate-of-the-year figure she'd had when she was forced to marry years before.

That insemination effort only made her more top heavy. As her perfect breasts filled with warm, sweet mother's milk after eight months, she reached total 'ripeness': the very vision of the ideal female.

Tragedy arose on the birthing day. Her old man had nixed any ultrasound during the gestation. The baby that appeared was, well, not describable or viable. My mom was devastated. The nurse (improperly) told her that the clinic thought the contributed sperm was defective--perhaps because it had to be 'augmented'.

They only proceeded at the insistence of mom's old man. My mother resented him for that and all his other shortcomings. He returned the resentment and added the element of constant abuse, both mental and occasionally physical.

As this was the summer and I was in between high school graduation and college, my time consisted of dating, yard work, pool maintenance and weight-lifting.

A typical day had me in the sun, bronzed and buff, either pounding the iron or cleaning the pool. I'd work up a sweat and a bitching tan before coming in for a cold one.

Sometimes my mother would bring me out a cold drink. It was a bit awkward as she would be outside in her little green house robe, in slippers or beautifully barefoot, just waiting for me to finish my drink.

Up until the birthing 'event', she took the empty can back to the kitchen without saying a word. AFTER the sad day at the hospital, she would look at me with the saddest eyes. Putting down the pool cleaner or the heavy barbells, I got the idea that she wanted, and needed, to be kissed. The 1st time was a mere peck on the cheek. By the fourth time, we exchanged a meaningful joining of probing tongues and soft tender lips.

Son or no, during the summer I tried my best to get to 'second base', to no avail. Every advance of mine was rejected. Even when her 'old man' confessed that he had squandered the employment tax reserve fund on a bad gambling day, mom maintained a proper distance from me.

So our intimacy was limited to those precious moments kissing. After the all too brief kiss, mom would scurry back to the house, fearful of what might follow. Once she looked back thru the window, noticing the swelling in my Speedos as if I was packing a pair of baseballs down there. After her kisses, I had to 'adjust things', pushing my ten inch cobra halfway around my waist to keep it from jutting out well above my navel... As the summer came to an end, we had one last weekend:

It all started one night when he hurled his dinner on the floor, accusing mom of being the reason for the birth defects. I ran after a sobbing mother, held her closely to me, and asked her if I should 'pound a little sense into him'. With tear-filled eyes, mom placed one hand on my oversized biceps and kissed me. She thanked me but said she just needed a shoulder to cry on.

Things had started going south two weeks before I was to leave for the mighty U. of M. [Michigan]. That weekend I had come home from a date only to overhear shouting. He was furious that mom had stayed up all night in the living room--waiting to be sure I got home safely. He'd always disliked (feared?) any maternal affection for me.

On the fateful last weekend night, I came home frustrated again. My date was acting 'hard to get' and I wasn't going to play her game or beg. I entered the house quietly as always only to find my mom waiting up for me. Her book was on the floor and she was 'out cold'. I smiled thinking she'd loyally waited up for me again before falling asleep; that is, until I saw her face.

There was redness beneath her nose and the unmistakable blue/black of a contusion around her eye.

I frantically got a warm wet cloth and wiped her beautiful face. Sobbing, mom hugged me. She said that he'd wailed on her again for waiting up and not being with him at the bankruptcy proceeding where he lost their last business.

Mom: [bristling:] "If I had a gun, I'd use it on him right now; I wish you'd been there to protect me...I was so helpless."

I hugged her. I held her at arm's length. I flexed my right arm for her, not Mr. America level but big nonetheless from weightlifting.

Me: "I don't need a gun, mom. I'll defend you—he'll never hurt you again."

I gently put her down on the sofa. Going into their room, I closed the door so mom couldn't hear. To my amazement, he wasn't in their marital bed but hiding in his closet. I found him cowering, a cowardly little bully; I raised him up to fight like a man.

He was shaking noticeably as he could see I was shirtless, my awesome physique obviously on a mission of retribution. Almost whimpering, he asked me if I was going to beat him up. I showed him my 'guns' and nodded. He suddenly had a big damp spot in the front as he panicked. His begging meant nothing to me.

After only two thunderous blows, he was out cold. I'd used him like a punching bag. It was no contest, a real man vs. a sissy bully. I put him back in his little closet hiding hole. If he was lucky, when he came to he'd only have a black eye like the one he gave my wonderful mother. That is, if he was lucky. If he was unlucky, he might not come to again.

I re-opened the door only to find my mother there, having watched the whole thing thru the wide key opening. Her hands went to both my arms, caressing them as sort of a reward for their service in protecting her and securing justice.

Mom: "My hero! God, you are so manly, so strong! I never want these muscles out of my sight whenever 'he's around."

We kissed. Soon, we were making out. Within moments, I was shed of my clothes and had opened her house robe. Lifting my lithe tiny (5'1") mother with ease, I raised her way up off the floor and then let her wet pussy drag down my chest until it found my erecting cock. Since I was now fully ten inches of the hardest cock in the country, my oversized cockhead brushed against her slavering wet pussy lips in a wonderful merger. I let her go completely so that she was suspended on and by that mighty member.

With mom attached to me, hard cock to sopping pussy, I took her on the 'wimp husband' tour. I put on the light in his closet where he was on the floor, a small pool of yellow beneath him. He had come to and was disbelieving the sight of me and mom in coital embrace. But making love we were, and right in front of him.

As she was suspended on my manhood right in front of him, her slender ankles and lovely soft feet wrapped around me, I grabbed her left hand, turning it towards him.

Me: "Oh no, that ring? You're married...I didn't know that. Tell me, how do I compare to your husband?"

Mom: "God, you're too much man for him; much more muscle and much MUCH more cock. And those family jewels! They're...they're HUGE. A fucking ocean of young vibrant sperm...I bet those little swimmers will make some absolutely perfect big strong babies."

Me: "You feel so good, like your sopping pussy was designed for only ME and my COCK. What do you want me to do?"

Mom: "Take me to my marital bed, to OUR marital bed."

Me: "What will we do there?"

Mom: "Make love, passionate love."

Me: "Okay, but what protection do you have?"

Mom: "Absolutely none; I want you inside of me. I want your cum inside me, all of it. I need you to shoot your precious seed deep inside of me, fill my fertile womb, coat my ovum, fertilize me...MAKE ME PREGNANT! [She glared at him.] I want your baby, YOUR STRONG HEALTHY BABY. YOUR YOUNG HEALTHY SPERM WILL MAKE BEAUTIFUL BABIES."

I carried mom over and laid her upon her bed. I did it carefully, because we were still attached at all times. From his corner of the open closet, he could watch. Sniveling in a corner behind his suits, he could just see me between his legally wed wife's shapely legs, the soft soles of her gorgeous feet pointed up and bouncing on my backend.

We made love like that for about twenty minutes. With each drive of my cock into the tight, gripping pussy of his wife, I was humiliating that little bully in the closet. As he cowered under a Brooks Brothers suit, my oversized cockhead was scraping the sensitive inner walls of his beautiful spouse.

As he shuddered in fear he heard their marital bed complain as the springs jangled, the bed post slapping against the wall. My testes became so swollen that they no longer moved as I drove forward on my toes: So heavy they just sat on the bed, the size of two of the largest oranges. I pushed forward so that her legs were on my shoulders; I wanted maximum penetration. I tapped against the cervix. As he looked on in disbelief, the old man saw my family jewels swell then shake and compress up into me. They did that fully seven times. Each time, mom moaned in ecstasy as the white hot liquid love splashed her cervical area, making it awash in thick cum.

After the seventh jet of baby batter, there were millions, perhaps billions, of the most determined squiggling manly tadpoles making a mad dash to create life.

I fell over, completely spent. Our heads were away from him so that he had a perfect vantage point to see my huge cock escape mom's tight pussy. Her muscles in there squeezed it like a warm, tight glove, making it pop out like it was under high pressure. There was still a faint trail of cum that connected the head of my powerful cock to her sperm-filled pussy.

As he gazed upon my 'handiwork', he saw an off-white glacier appear at the entrance to her gateway to heaven. Slowly but surely, thick lava flow of my manly cum seeped out of her and oozed slowly down one silky smooth thigh.

Mom: "Sweetheart, are you ready for another round?"

Me: "What? No, I've never been good for more than once in an evening."

I just laid there, completely played out. Even a tiny wimp like the 'old man' could've beaten me at that point.

Mom looked at him watching us from the closet like a voyeur. He was relieved that this was over as he saw I had shrunk back to a soft six inches with normal sized family jewels. Remembering the sting of his blows upon her, she just had to revive me for another round.

My supersexy mother lifted my head upon two pillows. Like Popeye getting spinach, she held my mouth open with one hand. Then she rubbed and pinched her nipples until they were rosy and stiff, placing a beautiful nipple into my mouth. Even deep in that distant closet, he could hear my suckling. Dizzy, I guzzled her fantastically sweet, vanilla-tasting, velvety smooth milk. With her hands now free, she brushed my head of dense dark hair with one hand. With the other mom keyholed my hardening cock as she re-fueled me.

This evening should've been over, he thought. It wasn't fair. Now, I was being brought back to life, to full power, by an infusion of supercharged energy drink: mom's warm, sweet breastmilk. Like that sailor of old infused with spinach, my body's tissues were blasted with power and virility as mom's incredible mother's milk did its work.

After a few yanks on my ten inches, she felt a thick hard cock in her hand. Letting it go for a moment, she reached down. Mom was thrilled that my balls were also restored to full size and beyond: swollen with potent seed.

I was still tuckered out, but just like Popeye I sat up with eyes closed and muscles flexed. As my eyes popped open and I took it all in, I wondered at my newly recharged and restored manhood. I was hard again, my testes bloated and teeming with life-giving sperm.

I saw my sexy mom next to me and pushed her back romantically for round two. My cock slid in smoothly as if we'd mated a thousand times before. Even after my huge cock had done its best to expand her to fit my size she was still tight, warm, and welcoming. Her muscles in there gripped and released, gripped and released my manhood, making it very hard to hold back. Like the boiler in an old locomotive, the pressure was building up for another, even larger, explosion; this one would be sperm-laden cum deep inside of her.

Her 'old man' closed his eyes and cringed as his wife, my beautiful loving mother, screamed in orgasm six more times making it an even dozen for the night. Mom made up for lost time; she'd never 'gotten off' with her 'old man'.

When my mother had her final and loudest orgasm, I joined her. Grabbing her still firm behind in my strong hands, I held her in an industrial firm grip as I blasted her insides with another torrent of jism. This time those orange-sized reservoirs were drained totally, drooping down to the bed comforter. All of that wondrous seed had been transferred into the deepest reaches of her unprotected fertile womb. That baby machine had gotten more seed to work with, in one spend, than her eighteen years of marriage had cumulatively provided.

Once again, mom's pussy oozed out the very seed of life. Now both of us were lying exhausted on what had been their marital bed. At that point we had to catch our breath after an hour of hard lovemaking. All he could see was that never-ending cream-pie seeping excess cum that now flowed down to a puddle on the floor.

We laid there for an hour. He didn't dare stir lest he face the wrath of my fists and those muscles. I finally stood, feeling my oats again. I celebrated my manly victory as I gazed upon mom's playmate figure and that ever-growing puddle of cum that was leaking out of her expanded pussy opening.

She got up as we brought this to a conclusion.

Me: [Addressing the wizened little man in the closet:] "We're going to leave for good, just the two of us. Do you have any valuables that we might be interested in?"

Him: "Absolutely not. Everything is invested or in a safe deposit box at the bank."

Mom: "THAT'S NOT TRUE! He's got a secret compartment in that desk, plus a little safe in the bottom hutch, combination 5-33-14."

He felt helpless as my mother, now on my side, showed me where everything was hidden. He literally saw his wealth transfer from him to me, giving me the financial power over him to complete the total victory.

We made quite a haul, including bearer bonds, negotiable securities, joint accounts that mom could clean out (and would), etc. In fact, except for the money in the checking account and the (slight) equity in that home, we got everything.

To rub it in, as we left, we made like Return of the Swamp Thing II; as I glared at him on the floor of that closet, I scooped up my gorgeous nude mother in my arms as she clutched those documents. I held her out in triumph--the spoils of war. Then I brought her to me: we kissed. I turned and left, taking everything of value from him.

My wonderful mother and I calmly packed and took the year old mini-van to a motel on the outskirts of the city. We stayed there until the divorce was negotiated. His past (documented) incidents of abuse really helped mom secure total victory in divorce arbitration. Then we made good our escape to the hinterlands. With the ink not quite dry on that divorce, we used her newly restored maiden name to get a marriage license in Nevada.

Unknown to us at the time, my gorgeous mother had conceived during our first encounter. She was wonderfully pregnant and just starting to show after we got settled into our new digs in Michigan just off-campus from the U. of M. Her perfect MILF figure was 'ruined' by her increasingly swollen belly, and I couldn't have been prouder. It didn't cramp our love life; we only gave up sex a few hours before the scheduled delivery...

True to my word, I was never far away from her and kept her safe, warm, and loved for the duration of our time together. My scholarship grant covered everything so we lived a modest life until I got a good job upon graduation. My mother proudly gave birth to quadruplets, all of them healthy. (We completed the family with the addition of two more children over the next couple of years, also 100% perfect.)

Once I got that dream job after graduation, we had a family photo taken with the four children at the time, our new Mercedes S550 and my still beautiful mom.

Mom insisted that we send him that photo. It had to be forwarded, as the little bully no longer could afford the house. It was sent to the men's mission. No one had claimed it so someone put it on his weathered old mattress. His things had already been stolen. All that was left of him, or his things, was that photo we'd sent...