The Party
Apart from the start and finish this is a spin off from the first 3 parts and includes other characters. With this in mind please don't grouse or one star the story just because it doesn't fit the mom son stereotype.
Here's a brief recap of parts 1,2 and 3:
Dad died tragically in a lorry accident 2 weeks before Christmas when I was 12. I learned, bit by bit, of the intense love shared between mom and dad and eventually about their ambitious and varied sex life. I later learned that one of mom's partners had cruelly forced himself on her against her will, causing untold psychological problems as far as her sex life was concerned. At university I'd had chance to mess around with hypnosis and, realising its usefulness, I began to study it more seriously.
I really wanted to help mom and other people and I managed to change courses at uni to learn hypnotherapy to help sexual problems. In between helping mom, however, I helped others, having some great fun. With learned skills and a great deal of patience I was achieving some remarkable therapies, not least making my sister cum as she'd never done before and I'd managed to experience the great joy of firing my missile inside her tight tube. Hopefully she would preach the gospel of my abilities to her friends.
All friends and gullible guinea pigs depicted in this story are over 18.
My head was in a whirl. Hypnosis, I now knew, was easy to learn but challenging to master. In such a short time I'd devoted much time and effort in practising my new found skill. I could now induce a state of suggestiveness and be able to use it to help others or to amuse myself.
My afternoon shopping with mom had been a revelation and the following Tuesday evening with my little sister had been fantastic, but that green monster of jealousy lay barely hidden, ready to rear its ugly head. I was devoted to mom; fucking my little sister was the icing on the cake. Angie was jealous, of that I was well aware. She didn't have a boyfriend so she would have to learn and accept that hypno fun and fuck fun with me had to take second place. There would be some way I could keep both happy.
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The weekend came. Friday evening Angie, thanks to a small but useful overdraft, courtesy of Midbank Plc, managed to persuade the ATM to spew forth two crisp £20 and one £10 notes. The following week her meagre monthly pay was due, a junior secretary's salary barely covering her share of household bills, fuel for her use of mom's car, her ever increasing mobile phone top-ups and her regular lifestyle of alcohol, partying and fast food.
"Wow, Angie baby," I teased, knowing she hated that name, "It could be your night to pull." Shower, hair and face paint had taken just over an hour. She had just a few minutes before the half-hourly bus into town was due.
"Fuck you," she retorted. "Don't fucking call me Angie baby."
"Is that offer still on if you don't pull then?"
Busying herself to make sure she didn't miss the bus Angie ignored my remark. I had to admit though that my little sister could pull any guy of her choosing. She'd chosen to wear a black shirt with fine vertical red and white stripes. The top two buttons were undone and within seconds of leaving the house it would be three. Angie's carefully chosen bra made to maximise her cleavage. At least it was practical. The evening was warm, the pubs and clubs would be warmer still. Her ultra short, butt hugging tight black skirt was nigh-on obscene. I could have fucked her there and then.
"So, sis. You'll fuck me as soon as you get back?"
A dirty look and just one raised finger were her sole answer before the front door slammed. Mom and I had the house to ourselves. Angie, as often happened, didn't return that evening. She would be unable to face mom in an almost paralytic state of overindulgence of alcohol.
"I love you mom," I said, keeping my sentiments simple.
"And I love you too," she answered, taking the few steps towards me. We kissed. Despite girlfriends and the odd one nighter following one drink too many at the student bars, mom was far more experienced than me. We kissed some more, mom's inviting lips encouraging us to kiss deeply and passionately.
"Do you want some more babying?" she asked, suddenly.
"I thought you said I sucked too hard, and occasionally bit you." I hated the word 'babying', it seemed somewhat perverted.
"Oh it's OK. In fact I enjoyed it last time. Anyway it's good to have sore nipples sometimes as they remind me of the fun we've had. You might not believe this but you've actually made a little milk flow. I noticed it afterwards."
Taboo or not, I really had enjoyed sucking on mom's boobies and I'd often wondered how a woman's milk would taste. I couldn't remember suckling as a baby though mom had told me dad would try too. Perhaps this was another 'dad' memory that would boost her confidence and help her enjoy sex just that little bit more.
"OK," I said, trying not to sound too enthusiastic. This had to be something that mom wanted me to do.
Mom crossed to the three seat sofa, sat, patted her lap, raised her top then pulled up one cup of her bra, "Make yourself comfortable."
I had no cause not to obey. It took a few minutes for me to position myself, legs overhanging the end of the sofa. Finally my mouth locked on mom's now naked breast. The nipple tasted good. Mom cradled my head in the crook of her arm; it all felt so natural. Her breast smelled so good, the remnant fragrance of whatever body wash or deodorant was most welcome, in fact the scent was of, what? It seemed familiar and then I remembered. Mom had powdered her breasts and cleavage with baby talcum powder.
Monday and Thursday evenings mom went to the community keep fit classes. When she returned there was a smell of sweat. The community centre had toilet facilities but there were no showers and just two small changing rooms. The sweat smell was there, but it was by no means unpleasant. Today was Friday, the only exercise mom had done was daily chores, helped to some extent by me.
Mom's voice was soothing, "That's right Chris. You drink mommy's milk, it's good for you." She tugged at my tee-shirt and started to caress my side, pausing to run her fingers across and around my nipple. Even if I had wanted to, I couldn't prevent myself from rapidly becoming hard.
Mom noticed, and her right hand awkwardly unbuttoned the top of my jeans then unzipped them. By raising my hips, and with a little help, my jeans and underpants were soon around my ankles.
"My, you're such a big boy," said mom, gently stroking my length, "And with a lovely thickness too." Her fingers curled partly around my solid pole as if to prove the point. "It shows you're nice and healthy."
It could have been a tiring day, but I hadn't done much at all. It could have been mom's soft soothing voice, or the baby powder smell making me recall a time when life was so simple, so uncomplicated. It could have been mom's very gentle, persistent stokes of my prize penis. Whatever it was I was becoming sleeper and sleeper.
When I awoke mom was still very steadily caressing my cannon and I sensed copious lubrication oozing out of its tip. Her titty was still touching, but no longer inside my mouth.
"This (she touched more firmly) must be uncomfortable for you (I could live with it for a while longer). Would you like mommy to ease the tension in your willie?" she asked. "Would you like to cum for mommy?"
"Oh yes, yes please!"
"Well, you suck on mommy's titty while I see to it."
She winced but I continued to suck hard.
"You're really needing mommy's milk, aren't you. You're a hungry boy."
