Cassie Eastman awoke at the crack of dawn, sans alarm clock. After a lifetime in the military, retiring as a sergeant after having lorded over countless soldiers, she was used to routine.
Hers was getting up without an alarm clock, same time, every day, an internal body clock honed by years of regularity. And every day of the school week, the trim, athletic 52-year-old woman with short-cropped blonde hair would march into her son's bedroom, waking him up for classes at the local college.
It was a routine the boy needed, she knew. At 19, and a sophomore in college, he wasn't the most ambitious kid, most his age weren't. She didn't hold it against him; she'd seen many soldiers like him. But she always broke them down, bending them to her will.
Cassie was a dominant sort, to say the least, and there was no doubt in her mind her aggressive attitude is what led to her marriage breaking up several years ago, leaving her to raise her son alone.
She stood in the kitchen, making coffee as she did every day at precisely the same time, more for her son than her. She ate and drank healthily, and rarely had coffee. And as usual, she wore her workout outfit, readying for her daily 10-mile run after Adam was off to school at 7:50. Her shorts were tiny, clinging to her amazingly muscular, tanned thighs, tapering to chiseled calves stuffed into short white socks and running shoes. Atop she wore a tight military T-shirt, her arms firm, shapely, forearms rippling with tendon and sinew.
She was a physical specimen unlike most women her age. She knew it, worked hard at it with her daily routine.
And down the hall, her son, Adam, was engaging in a routine of his own.
He knew his mom would literally march into his bedroom at precisely 7:30, announcing loudly and militarily that the day had begun. He didn't mind it; he loved his mother, enduring her precision and authoritative ways. It was actually good for him, he felt.
And just prior to that, he routinely would wake up and jerk off. She had her routine, he had his.
Part of which, was to think about his sexy, muscular mom while he did it.
All of Adam's friends loved Cassie, they'd visit often and for all her domineering, controlling ways, she was a great mom to be around, cooking for them, letting them host parties and keeping them safe, keeping them in line, forbidding excess drinking and making those who did sleep over, even if it meant on the floor with a blanket and pillow. And more than a few would comment to Adam how hot she was. He'd shake it off, while secretly agreeing, knowing he was lucky to have the hottest mom in town.
Her body, rock hard, muscular, so fit, drove him nuts. He imagined her now at the sink in those insanely sexy short shorts, puttering in the kitchen, and his cock immediately stiffened. He imagined licking her luscious body after a run, tasting and savoring her hard-earned sweat, the idea making him harder. He imagined fucking her, plunging into a pussy he assumed would be as tight as the rest of her incredible body.
He tossed back the covers, releasing the beast, all 9 inches of it. He'd been blessed with a larger-than-average cock, he knew, and had his fair share of sexual encounters with girls his age because of it. But it was his mom that fueled his fantasies more completely than any other woman.
It was wrong, he knew, but couldn't stop the fantasies.
He had them now as he took his usual place at the edge of the bed, stroking himself to full length, groaning quietly; his mother had razor-sharp hearing, and the less noise he made, the better.
He looked at the clock on his nightstand, one of the old-fashioned wind-up alarm jobs, the ones that made loud ticking, a sound that he liked, the cadence assuring and making him sleep more soundly.
It read 7:20, about five minutes later than his usual time for waking up. He hadn't much time. He had to work fast.
Adam was tall, lean, thin practically and owing to his mother's insistence that he work out constantly, was very agile. Which due to this morning's time constraints would serve him well.
He stretched his back up, leaning back, feeling and hearing the satisfying crackle of his spine aligning. He bent forward, stroking his dick, slowly dipping his head down until his outstretched tongue could tickle the tip of his enormous prick, lapping at the pre-cum already welling there.
Adam was blessed that way, a way he knew most men weren't. He never told anyone about it, of course, but realized sucking their own cock was something most men had likely tried at some time in their lives, and most failing.
He was one of the lucky ones, ashamed of his gift at first when he'd discovered his nimble body could be his best friend. But he grew to like it. And he knew, as he did now, that sucking his own dick was the fastest way to a mind-blowing orgasm.
He stretched over a bit farther, his middle seemingly devoid of bone, supple and fluid, and now his lips surrounded his cock head, and with a little more pushing down and stroking up, he soon had the first inch or two firmly in his mouth. He groaned, stroking harder, running his tongue around the velvety smooth tip, bobbing his head up and down as his hand flew along his shaft.
When he blew himself, he could cum in five minutes, maybe less, far quicker than just jerking off. And now, imagining his beautiful mother kneeling before him with her mouth on his dick instead of his, he felt his nuts throbbing in the usual pre-orgasmic masturbatory routine of his morning.
With a sidelong glance, he looked at the clock: 7:25. He sucked harder, faster, imagining more outlandish things, like sucking his muscular mom's asshole, a fantasy he saved for special occasions like this, when he was in a hurry to cum. He felt his balls knot and tense. He knew in exactly five minutes - no more, no less - his mom would bound into the room with military precision.
What he didn't know was that because he didn't wind the clock fully the night before, it was running slow - five minutes slow.
Cassie looked at her watch, read the time at 7:30, and strode down the hall, to Adam's door, opened it and announced, as she did every day, "Rise and shine, soldier, it's time to get up!" and then stopped dead in her tracks as her eyes met her son's - which were about four inches above the biggest cock she'd ever seen in her life, firmly in her not-so-little boy's sucking mouth.
That split-second of recognition seemed to last forever for both of them.
Cassie had seen a lot in her day, soldiers gay or bisexual or just shit-faced drunk and horny, in their barracks sucking and fucking, or huddled away somewhere at the base, stolen sexual encounters that she never had a problem with. For all her military ways which for the most part where right of center, she understood that everyone was different, and never judged them for their sexual proclivities.
And she'd had a few lesbian encounters in her time, which perhaps had something to do with her liberal attitude toward sex.
But this, seeing her only child bent over his cock sucking furiously and stroking madly, was the last thing she ever expected to see. As much as Adam never expected to see her see him doing it.
"MOM!" he screamed, popping his mouth of his dick and thrusting himself back on the bed, pulling the blankets over himself. "OH MY GOD!"
