Side Effects 05 Good Medicine

Side Effects 5 -- Good Medicine

By T Yger

"Stan, where are you?" Elizabeth called from the kitchen.

Stan lifted his head, setting down his sketch pad at the same time. He listened, uncertain that he'd heard his mom calling him. Deciding it was better to go find out than risk her wrath, he swung his legs off his bed, then headed downstairs. He'd been finding himself doing things in his room more and more because, frankly, his mom had become a bitch.

"Were you calling me?" he spoke as he came down the stairs. He wasn't certain where she was, but knew she'd let him know.

"There you are," her voice shot out of the kitchen. Stan cringed. What now?

"You didn't rinse this." She waved a tall glass that had a splash of milk in the bottom. Stan was about to apologize, then realized he hadn't drunk milk today.

"Sorry Mom, wasn't me."

"Don't you lie. You better just remember to do it from now on. I'm not your maid." She turned back to the sink.

Stan stood in the doorway watching her rinse it, then place it on the top rack in the dishwasher. He was seething inside. What was going on that she was always on his case these days? Then he realized he was picturing his mom, bent over, loading more dishes, but she was nude. He felt a stirring in his pants and tried to clamp down on his imagination. Too late.

Still watching her, he could see himself walking up behind her, slipping his cock into her and starting a satisfying fuck session. He shook his head, dispelling the images like smoke in a breeze. She was just his mom, standing there with a hand on her hip, glaring at him.

"Why are you staring at me? You need something to do?"

Yeah mom, but you might not like it. He didn't dare utter the words. They'd come to an understanding. Now that she was 'cured' of her anxiety, no longer suffering from the side effects of her medication that left her feeling insatiably horny, there was no more need for their special sessions.

Too bad, he thought, we'd just gotten to the actual fucking. Stan turned away before she could see his growing erection.

"Don't turn your back on me." The tone in her voice softened his stiffy.

"Mom," Stan turned back, "what's wrong? You used to talk with me. Now it's always like I'm in some sort of trouble."

"It's you. You've become inconsiderate, always doing things just to grate on me." She turned away; her face flushed.

Wanting to lash out, he had been going to great lengths to not do things that irk her. Stan took a moment to calm himself. "That's not fair."

"What's not fair," she yelled back at him, not letting him finish his thought, "is that I do all the work around here and you do all the lazing."

"Lazing? I'm mostly busy staying the hell out of your way."

"Don't you sass me." She stomped her foot.

Stan opened his mouth to respond but saw the looming train wreck. "Wait Mom, let's take this back a step or two."

She stared at him, a quizzical look on her face.

"We never did this to each other before. God, Mom, we've been intimate. Why are we fighting?"

She continued to stare at him, her face slack. "It...it...its like before," she stammered in a quiet voice.

"What do you mean? Before."

"I don't know. It just seems to me, that you're getting on my nerves." Then she slammed her fists to her sides. "Everything's getting on my nerves. Why can't the world just leave me alone?"

"Mom," Stan rushed to her. Her voice, her look of frustration, were too much for him.

"I don't know." She raised her hands to her neck. "I just know I've had enough."

"Wait, is this like it felt before you went for counselling? Is your anxiety back?" Stan's brain churned the thought, do you need to go back on medication? Guilt flashed through him. He would never want his mom to be ill just so he could have sex with her. He just didn't want his mom getting to the place she had been before.

"I don't know." Her voice grew quiet. She glanced around the kitchen as though the answer was scrawled somewhere. She cocked her head and looked at him. "Maybe."

"Well, we need to do something before it gets worse. Why don't you make a doctor's appointment?"

"I can, but that'll take at least two weeks. And then drugs again, all the talking."

"But it helped before." Stan placed a hand on her shoulder, fully aware of just how close it was to her breast.

She placed a hand on his, looked into his face. "I will. I will do that but," she paused, searching his eyes, "I think it might have been our sessions that did the most good."

His heart jumped and his cock grew hard. He knew he wanted that, but he had to let her make that choice. Dredging up the right words, not wanting to manipulate her, he uttered, "Really? I'm good medicine?"

"But that's too much to ask."

"Ask Mom. I'm happy to do whatever helps you." He knew he wasn't lying, and he really wanted her to say yes.

"Are you busy right now?" She pressed her pelvis against his leg.

"Not too busy." He mimed pulling on rubber gloves, unable to believe his good fortune. "The doctor is in." He wrapped his arms around her, lowered his face to hers, and slipped his tongue into her mouth.

She slid her hands up his back, gripped his shoulders, and pulled him tight. Her tongue snaked into his mouth, jaw working, showing her passion. She ground her body against his.

Stan slid his hands over her back, rubbing, kneading, tickling, before letting them move to her ass. He pulled her even tighter, pressing his throbbing dick against her.

"We should get out of the kitchen," he whispered.

"Why?" She pulled him, walking backward until she was against the island.

"Someone might see." He broke contact with her lips just long enough to slip the words out.

She looked left, then right, then back at him. "Fuck 'em."

Stan lifted the back of her shirt, fumbled with her bra.

"Yes, yes," she moaned. "Feel me up. Play with my titties."

"Bosoms, Mom, remember."

She gave him a look. "Whatever."

Then the strap snapped free, and he slid his hands to her breasts. Her nipples were as hard as his cock.

"Oh god you feel good," Stan crooned. "I've missed this so much." He spoke the words before he realized he was going to. Too late, they were out there.

"Really?" she said, glancing up at him. "I thought I was the only one. My pants, get my pants."

He obliged, pulling at her belt then tugging on the waist snap. He couldn't resist slipping his hand down the front of her. His fingers slid into her pubic hair, rough and scratchy, and then into the heat of her crotch. Her panties were damp, her vagina slippery. He let his fingers linger there a few moments before pressing harder, sliding right inside her. She moaned. Her pelvis worked against his hand.

"Get my pants off before my pussy drowns."

"Mom." Her bold words surprising him.

"Beth," she stated.

"Screw that. I'm not ashamed I'm boffing my mom."

"Well, I hope you don't brag about it anywhere."

"Never. This is all just you and me." He pulled her pants down, then her panties. He sat her up on the counter, then tugged them all the way off.

She scooted her butt back a few inches, then spread her legs. "Put that tongue to good use, would you?"

"Your wish..." And then he bent down and muzzled himself, sliding his tongue into her vagina. It tasted even sweeter than he remembered. She was so juicy his face was slicked in a moment.

Her knees pulled into the air, Beth leaned her head back, her eyes closed. Gentle moans, punctuated by spasms in her hips, encouraged Stan's efforts. He slipped his tongue over her clitoris, around her pussy lips, back inside her. He liked when his efforts made her legs jiggle.

When he felt her intensity diminish, he slid two fingers inside her, maintaining the tongue lashing he was giving her. That renewed her moans and sighs. Then her pelvic thrusts deepened, slowed, her breathing changed, and Stan knew she was close to orgasm. He intensified his efforts against her clit, giving long, quick strokes while his fingers continued to work in and out of her.

Then she was screaming, her legs thrashing, her butt slapping against the countertop. For a moment, Stan grew concerned about anyone glancing in the windows, but dismissed it. Reflections from the glass should keep prying eyes away. At this moment, he just didn't care.

He felt her vagina contract in spasms as though trying to eat his hand, his face. He wished it could. Getting right inside her would be a pleasure. His cock throbbed in his pants, and he wanted it out, free, but this was her moment, so he settled for just giving it firm squeezes through the material.

He kept up his licks as he felt the tension leaving her body. Her breathing return to normal. Only then did he raise his head, move his face closer to hers.

"Did you like my oral prescription?"

"I wish all medications could be delivered by mouth." She gave him an open-mouth smile. Then she gave a deep sigh and lay back before propping herself on her elbows.

"Ready for your injection?" Stan knew he was.

"Not just yet, Dr. Stan." Beth sat up, then stood, pushing him back a step. "A little more oral medication first." Then she knelt, pulled at his belt, undid his pants. When she pulled his underwear down, his cock sprung out. "Oh, that's nice. A tongue depressor?" She reached for it.

"Yeah, I guess so." Stan felt throbs of pleasure in his penis just knowing she was looking at it. Her stroking only amplified the feelings.

"Doesn't depress me at all." Then she guided it into her mouth. Running her tongue along the bottom of it, she flicked at the small ball of skin at the base of his head where his foreskin had been removed when he was a baby.

"Oh, Mom," escaped his mouth, his breath whooshing out as waves of desire slammed down his cock, his legs, up his torso. He gripped her head, gentle, thrusting his pelvis in quick strokes. The feel of her mouth around him, the warmth, the slickness, her palate rubbing against the sensitive skin of the head was intoxicating. "That feels sooo good."

She mumbled something, but his dick obstructed her words. He didn't care, lost in the slow strokes of the blowjob. Glancing at the kitchen doorway, saw the full-length mirror on it where his mom would check her appearance before heading out. Their reflection excited him. He watched as his cock slid in and out of his mother's mouth.

Then waves of pleasure throbbed through him. The sight was so erotic. He wanted to stand her up, bend her over the counter, and watch as he fucked her from behind. But he resisted. Watching what she was doing to him was so stimulating. Afraid he might cum too soon, he tapped her on the shoulder, then pointed toward the mirror. She looked, slowed her actions a moment, then resumed. Only now, she let his cock slide all the way out of her mouth, then back in. She kept watching in the mirror as well.

Stan looked down at her, saw she was playing with herself as well. Again, electricity coursed through him. His hips rocked harder; he couldn't help it. Watching his mom masturbate while she sucked him off was just too much. He thrust forward, then back in long, slow motions. She dragged her teeth along his shaft, over the end, then relaxed as he pushed forward. He felt the gathering in the base of his penis.

"You're making me cum."

She stopped for a moment. "That's kind of the idea."

"I mean right now."

Her eyes flicked up at him in understanding. "That's ok. You can cum in my mouth. I came in yours."

Three strokes later, he did just that. He resisted thrusting harder, kept his slow cadence. When he exploded, it was a geyser erupting. She choked, then swallowed and kept sucking. His legs grew weak, his cock tender. What she was doing was nice, but he was afraid he might collapse. He pulled himself out of her.

She brushed the back of one hand across her mouth, the other was still working at her pussy. "Ready for a little more, doctor?" She reached down and gripped his penis. Blood rushed into it, stiffening it again. "Now I'm ready for that injection."

Standing, she pulled off her shirt, letting it drop to the floor. Then she pulled off his t-shirt, and they were both naked. He stepped out of his pants that were pooled at his feet.

"Let's move a little closer." She stepped toward the door. "You seemed to enjoy watching," nodding his toward the view in the mirror.

"It was like a porno, only better," he admitted, moving with her.

Her back to the counter, she pressed her pelvis against his semi-rigid cock. He pressed back, squeezing it between their bellies. Raising his hands to her breasts, he gave her a good feeling up, kneading them, pinching the nipples. They were hard nubs under his fingers. Her back arched. Her eyes closed. She sucked in a quick breath. He bent his head to taste her nipples. She pressed his head against her.

Now he was fully erect. She continued to rub her pelvis against him, then turned, leaning her arms on the counter, and he slid inside her from behind. The sensation washing through him closed his eyes. His head rocked back, his hips forward. Then he remembered the mirror and turned to watch the man in the mirror fuck his mother.

"Oh yes," she gasped. "You know how to do that." She arched her back. Sliding his hands to her breasts, he couldn't seem to get enough of them. He loved the sensations that flowed through him as he continued to watch the mirror. She did too. Their eyes locked. She smiled.

"Like fucking your mom?"

"You know it." His hips continued to thrust, the intensity increasing. He turned from the mirror, watched as his cock slid in and out of her. The button of her ass puckered, and he wondered what it would be like to screw her there. He'd never done that, tried anal sex, but some of his friends claimed they had. He wasn't certain he would like it and he had no idea if his mom would. Maybe she had done that with his dad?

"Talk dirty to me," she stated.

"Huh?" He wasn't certain he'd heard her properly.

"Talk dirty tome."

"Mom, how can I do that?"

"Well, you have your cock in my cunt, so it shouldn't be too big a stretch."

Wanting to please her but uncertain how to proceed, he stammered, "Ride my dick."

"You can do better than that."

Swallowing hard, he tried again. "Your pussy is beautiful."

"Dirty." She looked back at him, her eyes firm.

"I love how your cunt grips my cock."

She moaned, "Uh, huh."

"Fucking you makes my dick so hard." And then the words were flowing out of him. "Sexing you is what I can do all fucking day. You are my fuck bitch, and I am yours. Keep your cunt sliding over me while I thrust deep into you. Your ass is amazing, your tits divine. I could fuck you deep all day."

And then she was squirming, thrusting herself against him, and he knew she was cumming. And then he was too, spurting onto her ass, her back on the outstroke, then plunging back into her, still spewing cum deep into her.

Then he collapsed on top of her, hugging her. He felt sperm dripping from his dick, from her pussy where he touched her. Then he stood, and she turned, giving him the perfect view of her nude body. He loved how her breasts rode high on her chest, the patch of pubic hair, the shape of her hips. Even the small paunch she carried.

"That was amazing," she said. "I feel better."

"I am glad to hear." Now that it was over, Stan felt a vulnerable, standing naked in the kitchen. He stepped into his pants, pulled them up.

"Is that necessary?" She stepped toward him, slid her hand down the front of his trousers, gripped his cock. "Why don't we just stay naked? I might need another emergency treatment."

Looking toward the kitchen windows, Stan decided he didn't care. Anyone looking in probably couldn't see anything anyway, and besides, that would make them Peeping Toms. Letting his pants drop, he stepped out of them.

"The living room?" He waved a hand toward the doorway.

"Sounds good to me."

He took her hand and led her. Then fucked on the couch, on the piano stool, across the armchair, in front of the fireplace.

"The coat closet?"

"Mmmm," she responded, as though considering a dessert.

After that, he suggested her bedroom.

"Maybe that will excise the last remnants of your father." Her smile told him that, even if it didn't, she'd still be happy. His dick was getting raw, but his appetite for his mother felt insatiable. As long as was willing, he would endure.

They agreed after three times in various positions on the bed and one on her bureau dresser, that the exorcism had done all it could. They went into the ensuite and christened the shower, and the vanity, twice.

"I think we should save something for another day." She panted when he dragged her toward the dining room.

"Feeling well enough now?"

"I feel incredible." Stan could tell by how she stood that she too, was feeling all the friction.

"Well," he dropped her hand, "I offer walk-in service on twenty-four-hour call."

"I'll take advantage of that. Right now, I need a nap."

Stan watched his mother walk toward her bedroom. Her bare ass swayed back and forth and he admired the lines of her body. He felt his cock stiffening again and knew he would be up to her next emergency treatment.