What I am about to tell you is the true story of how I made my mother my personal slut and whore. That might sound odd to you at first, perhaps even unnatural, but I assure you that to me, it was all I have ever wanted and now the my mother is mine to do with as I please, I am quite happy and I know she is too.
First, let me tell you something about myself. My name is Tanya, and I’m 23 years old, half Italian, half Portuguese, I am about 5 foot 7, 110 pounds, with nice, perky tits and a plump, firm ass. My girlfriends have always envied the fact that my tummy is flat and my rump sticks out and fills out my jeans snugly, and indeed, more than one of them has enjoyed grabbing my ass as we’ve grinded our pussies together in moments of lust.
But I am getting off the subject, aren’t I? I’m sorry … I really can’t help it sometimes.
Anyway, I’ve been living with my mom ever since I broke up with my boyfriend last year. I never did go to college, and since the break-up, I have actually not really sought out men. Rather, I’ve preferred to rest in the arms of other women, or rather, have them rest in MY arms. You see, it’s nice being in control and not having to deal with men who think they are entitled to bossing you around. Maybe it would be okay if it were just in the bedroom, but it’s not. So I’ve enjoyed escaping that submissive role and getting what I want, regardless of how taboo it might be.
My mother, Nicole, had me when she was very young -- only 17. So she is just turning 40 and having a crises, I think. The last couple years, she has taken to dressing more and more provocatively, probably because she thinks she is showing her age and wants to feel desirable. And desirable she is!
You see, I’ve always felt very close to my mother. I still remember sucking at her breast as a baby and sitting on her lap as a little girl, and I’d still be nuzzling at her breast then, opening her robe. And even when I was older, even when I had the distinct impression that it was somehow wrong, I remember sitting on her lap and loving the feeling when she would put her arms around me, and sometimes, when I was lucky, her hand would come to rest on my crotch and she would fall asleep while I was still in her lap. And I would gyrate about and move my body so that her hand inadvertently slipped into my robe and touched my pussy. This was when I was still 13 or so, but she drove me crazy without knowing it.
And now, with her recent displaying of her sexy outfits, I’m being driven crazy again. You see, my mother -- even at 40, is a downright sexy, exotic woman. She is quite tall -- 5 foot 10 -- and yet a trim 115 pounds and long legs that seem to stretch a mile before finally reaching her ass, which is still nice and firm. She has bullet tits and rarely wears a bra around the house. Her hear is short and straight -- not curly like mine -- and it reaches down to her shoulders and sometimes covers her eyes when she bends over, making her look sexy as hell.
It’s a wonder my father doesn’t lift her up and carry her to the bed upon seeing her. But he is a bit older -- 47 -- and I don’t think he has the sex drive he used to have. I used to hear moans coming from my parent’s bedroom when I was a teenager, but I don’t hear them anymore and doubt that my mother is pushing him away.
Anyway, working at nights at a local movie theater and not having a boyfriend of my own, has afforded me an ample amount of time to look at and lust after my mother, who stays home during the day and has taken to wearing skimpier and skimpier clothes as she does her housework or runs her errands.
It was last month that I made my mother my slut for the first time, made her mine.
I was on the couch watching T.V., wearing a jean skirt and white tank top because it was hot outside. I also was wearing black one-inch heels because it makes me feel sexy, even if it is a bit uncomfortable around the house. At any rate, I was dressed appropriately for being such a sweltering day.
But then my mother walked out of her room, toting the vacuum cleaner and my jaw literally dropped when I saw what she was wearing. Nothing but these Daisy Duke shorts that were burrowing up the crack of her ass and showing off her well-toned, tan legs … which I told you before, are quite long and sexy. It was obvious to me that she was wearing no underwear and I could swear that I even saw a stray hair or two peeking out of her shorts -- they were that short.
And her top wasn’t that much better. Her bullet tits were bursting against the T-shirt, and sweat was going down her V-neck, making her look like one of those oiled up models, she was that gorgeous. And I couldn’t help but keep looking at her long legs and as she vacuumed the rug, moving her legs methodically back and forth, I began to lose my breath and gave my tits as squeeze as I watched her.
I had to do something. I had to teach her a lesson for doing this to me, for walking around the apartment like this. And so, without warning, I got up from my couch, clicking my heels over the wooden floor of the living room and into the dining room where she was bending over, pushing the vacuum under a chair. And I walked up behind her, without her knowing … and then a raised up my hand and brought it down on the bare flesh or her ass, which was hanging out of her shorts. I gave it a good crack and she yelped, dropping what she was doing and turning back to look at me.
“What was that for Tanya?” she asked incredulously, as I she didn’t know.
“That” I said “is for walking around like a slut, dressed like that.”
She gasped and looked at me confused. “Whatever do you mean? Why I never!”
