Rancho Del I****to free porn video

Rancho del i****to
byfictitious©

I am Emanuel Luis Sanchez, the son of Cornelio Felipe Sanchez. My father was once a great man, being one of the richest and most powerful men in Mexico. Like most of the rich men in Mexico, my father had a beautiful wife and, like most of the powerful men in Mexico, my father had a rival. I don't know the full story behind it, but I knew my father hated his rival and wanted to see him dead. Unfortunately, it was my father's rival that was victorious.

I was only eight years old when my father was murdered. My mother and I fled our estate that same night. My father's rival, Don Julio, tried to hunt us down -- he wanted me dead, afraid that one day I would take my revenge upon him. Thus, my mother and I moved from one Mexican region to another, unable to find real safety anywhere. We went from being very rich to begging people to let us stay with them for just one night. Some people took us in -- who could refuse a young woman and her son in need -- while others knew who we were and knew better than to help us.

Eventually there was nowhere left in Mexico where we could be safe, and thus, my mother arranged for us to be smuggled into the United States. I still remember that long, dark ride in the back of the cramped minibus. There were about twenty people shoved in there and for two days we rode in silence without food or drink. My mother kept her face covered the whole time, lest someone recognize her.

When we finally made it across the border, we were dropped off in a small border town. Not knowing anyone and not having any money, we were left to our fate. My mother knew only a handful of English words, but it was enough to ask for directions. She wanted to get to the closest city, where we could begin our new life. That city was Tucson, in the state of Arizona, and it was seventy miles away. Hungry and weak we could never make it on foot.

My mom began asking people for a ride, dragging me behind her by the hand. Most people weren't even willing to stop and waved her away. However, eventually one man was willing to hear my mom out. He wore a straw hat and cowboy boots which made him look like a farmer. He pointed out his truck parked next to the gas station and agreed to help us. As we rode in this truck, I noticed that he behaved very strangely towards my mother. He seemed very annoyed when my mother and I quickly jumped out of his truck upon arriving to Tucson. It wasn't until I was older that I realized that he was making sexual advances on her that day. I sure am glad that I didn't have to witness anything which could traumatize me at such a young age.

Life wasn't easy for us in Tucson, but we tried our best to get used to it. Even though we were i*****ls, my mother was able to find a job. It was hard work and paid very little, but we were able to rent a room in an all-Mexican neighborhood. We ate very simple - mostly rice, beans and vegetables - but sometimes we could afford some meat.

Even though we had escaped to America and were relatively safe, my mother was never at ease. She knew that the news of my father's death had traveled outside of Mexico. She also knew that Don Julio would never stop looking for us until we were dead. That is why, as soon as someone learned about who we were, we would be on the move again.

In the first few years we moved all around the state of Arizona. Getting a new job was always difficult for my mom, but somehow she always managed. I attended whatever school was willing to accept me and tried to learn as much as I could. I picked up English rather fast and began forgetting Spanish little by little. My mother encouraged that I speak English to her. She said it was because she needed practice, but I suspected that it was because she wanted to leave all of our past behind.

Despite my progress with English, my lack of proper education was becoming more and more apparent. Mom wanted me to have a proper life here in the United States and she felt helpless that she couldn't offer that.

On day, my mother met a couple of Mexican women that were from Los Angeles. They told her that life out there was much easier for immigrants. There was a huge Mexican community where she could get a good job and I could get a decent education. Thus, when I turned ten we moved to Los Angeles; east Lost Angeles to be precise.

We took a liking to L.A. right away and we settled in fast. As an extra safety measure my mother changed her name to Maria and I was simply known as Manny. We were able to rent a whole apartment, small though it was, and I was properly enrolled in school. However, living in California was more expensive than Arizona, and my mother had to work two jobs. I think she was happy though, because we felt safe, and it finally seemed like we belonged somewhere.

I enjoyed school and even made some friends. However, my friends didn't share my passion for education. They often skipped class and would ask me to join them. Some days I would give in, but I always felt bad about it. I don't know how, but mom always knew if I skipped school and she would tell me how disappointed she was. That wasn't why I felt bad though. I saw all the other Mexican boys in my neighborhood growing up to join gangs, getting addicted to d**gs or working low-wage jobs. That was not what I wanted for myself. Maybe it was my father's ambition in me, but I wanted to make something out of myself, to be important, to be recognized.

As I grew into my teenage years, I grew further apart from my friends. They skipped school regularly and made fun of me for not joining them. A few of my friends joined a local gang and I never saw them around anymore. Others were doing d**gs and spending their time getting into trouble.

When I turned fifteen, several local gang members approached me with a proposition to join their gang. They told me that it was time for me to think about my future. I guess making an honest living wasn't much of a future to them. I declined their proposition, but they came back week after week, being more persuasive each time. I even began wondering what it would be like to be in a gang and make lots of money.

"The Loccos asked me to join them again," I said one day to my mother. "They were pretty convincing. They said that I would get paid every week."

My mom was cleaning the house. Upon hearing me say that, she immediately stopped what she was doing and came up to me. I was already a little taller than her, so she had to look up at me. She had a frightened look in her eyes, the kind of look I haven't seen in a while.

"Don't even think about it, Manny," she said. She spoke English quite well now, though she still had a heavy Mexican accent.

"But mom, we could get a bigger apartment. Get some new clothes. Eat meat every day," I argued.

My mom placed her palms on each one of my cheeks and squeezed my face.

"Listen to me, mijo. We live well. We have a roof and we don't go hungry. We can have all that nice stuff once you graduate, go off to college and then get a good job." She paused and let go of my face. "You are the only thing I have left in this word, Manny. You know I can't lose you, not to some stupid gang. Be a good boy. Use your head. That's not the life for you." She gave me another meaningful look and shook her head in disappointment - a gesture she often used on me.

I knew mom was right. People said that nothing good ever came out of East L.A. I was going to prove them wrong. I was going to finish high school and get a college degree. I didn't quite know how I would get into college or what degree I wanted to get, but right know I had to concentrate on the problem at hand - finishing high school.

It seemed like every month a new gang would invite me to join them. I would try my hardest to refuse the invitation without disrespecting anyone. Not everyone took kindly to my refusal and, more than once, I got a good beating by several thugs at once.

My mother was very distraught the first time I came home beaten up. She was very worried and anxious about what happened. I assured her that everything would be okay and she seemed to calm down. However, since that day she had changed and often looked at me with troubled eyes.

The gangs never left me alone and there was nowhere I could get away from them. When I was s*******n, I came home one day after I've been beaten pretty badly. One of my eyes was swollen shut and my lips were bleeding in more than one place.

"We are moving, Manny," mom told me as she tended to my injured face.

"What? Where?"

"As far away from here as possible. I have been asking around and I spoke with one man from Kansas. He offered for us to live on his plantation."

"They call them ranches here, mom," I interrupted.

"Okay, on his ranch. He is looking for more servants for his estate. He told me that he would provide us with food and a place to live, in exchange for work."

"But, mom," I protested, "what about school? I only have half a year left before I graduate."

"I told this man what a good student you are. He said that there is a nice school that would be happy to take you in and after you graduate he would be happy to help you get into a college. He is a very rich man, Manny."

I was suddenly excited about this opportunity. My friends have all moved on to shady things and I hardly spoke to them any longer. The only thing I would be leaving behind in Los Angeles was Cecilia. Cecilia was a girl that I liked and we even kissed a few times. I didn't want to leave her, but I wanted to go to college more.

Just like that, we gathered up what little possessions we owned and hit the road. After two days of traveling by bus we arrived at this ranch in Kansas. Mr. Roger Wilson was the owner of the ranch, and the man my mother spoke about. He was an elderly man with thinning gray hair. Upon meeting him, he struck me as a very pleasant gentleman, but I did notice him looking at me and my mom in a strange way.

"Here is where you will live," said the ranch owner, after he showed us around.

"Thank you very, very much, Señor Wilson," said my mom, sounding extremely sweet and polite.

"Don't mention it," Mr. Wilson smiled at my mom. "Make yourself at home."

We were given a large room with two beds in the servants' house. Several other Mexican servants lived in this house and we all had to share a kitchen and a bathroom. That didn't bother us, because our new room was twice the size of our apartment back in L. A.

I quickly got used to my new life in Kansas. The school was much nicer and the teachers seemed to care more. I was the only Mexican k** in my class and at first k**s stared at me in surprise. Eventually, I was just one of the students, though nobody seemed eager to befriend me. It didn't matter much to me. Every day after school I would rush home and study hard.

My mom became one of Mr. Wilson's maids. She seemed to take to her new work with great enthusiasm and she was even given a special uniform that she wore every day. Mr. Wilson would come visit us once in a while in the servants' house and chat with me briefly. When he learned that I was turning eighteen soon, he offered to throw me a birthday party.

On the day I turned eighteen, all of the servants that lived on the ranch got together in the courtyard of the main estate. There was food and punch, and somebody brought out a guitar and played traditional Mexican tunes. I haven't had a birthday party this big since we left Mexico and I was very pleased with Mr. Wilson's friendly gesture.

After we cut the cake, Mr. Wilson came over to talk to me.

"So Manny, you are an adult now. How does it feel?" he asked.

"Doesn't feel much different, Mr. Wilson."

"Please, call me Roger." Mr. Wilson smiled at me. "You certainly look like you've grown into a strong, young man. Your mother must be proud."

I knew that I was very skinny, since we never could afford to eat well, but the compliment made me blush.

"Eh, I guess," I replied shyly.

"How is school going? Do you like it?"

"Oh, yes! It's great. I'm trying my hardest to get good grades."

"I hear you've been doing very well at school. Your teachers speak highly of you. What are your plans after you graduate?"

"Well, I'm planning to apply at a few colleges. Though I'm not sure how we can manage to pay for it."

"I see," said Mr. Wilson and smoothed back his gray hair. "I may know someone at the town's college. I can speak to them and see what they can do for you."

"Really? That would be great, Mr. Wilson!" I exclaimed happily.

"Remember, call me Roger." He smiled once again and walked off, before I could say anything else. I stood there, watching him walk away and couldn't help but be amazed at the patronage of this man, who was practically a stranger to me.

Later that day, after we ate dinner in our living quarters, my mom began putting her maid's uniform back on.

"What are you doing?" I asked. She never went to work this late.

"Señor Roger wants me to tend to him tonight," mom replied.

I nodded, but wondered what the meaning of this was.

For the next couple of weeks, my mom went to tend to Mr. Wilson after work hours, returning late into the night afterwards. I was curious, but decided it would be best if I didn't ask any questions.

One night, as I was looking over some math problems after dinner, my mom went to put her uniform on. I paid her no attention, until she came up and looked over my shoulder.

"Math?" she asked. "It looks difficult."

"It's not so bad once you understand it," I replied. "I want to make sure I memorize the formulas we learned this week."

Mom stood quietly for another moment and then said: "Señor Roger wants you to come with me tonight."

I turned and looked her. "Come with you? Where?"

"To his study. Where I usually go," she replied without meeting my eyes.

I hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to think. "Okay," I said finally. I put away my textbook and followed mom out.

The sun had just dipped below the horizon and the night air was pleasantly warm. Mom led me through the courtyard and into Mr. Wilson's mansion. We made our way through the main door, up a flight of stairs and into a large room that had big, plush, leather chairs and rows of books on wooden shelves. In the middle of the room, covering the floor, was a luxurious Persian rug. Right above it, hung a chandelier that threw just enough light to illuminate the room and give a mysterious ambiance. Mr. Wilson was seated in one of the chairs and faced us as we walked in.

"Close the door, Maria," he said softly and my mom obeyed. "Ah Manny, nice to see you."

"Hello," I said plainly.

"Did you enjoy your birthday party?"

"Yes. It was very nice of you to do that. I am very grateful."

He waved a hand dismissing my thanks. "It was my pleasure."

"Would you like a drink? Scotch? Whisky?" Mr. Wilson asked me.

I looked at mom who came to stand by his chair. She didn't look at me.

"I'm not old enough to drink, Señor," I replied.

"Nonsense. You're a man now. Have a drink." He motioned with his hand and my mom poured some brown liquid into a short glass. "Have a seat and please... just call me Roger."

Roger indicated one of the leather chairs opposite from him and I settled into it, making the leather creak. Mom handed me a half-filled glass and went back to stand next to Roger.

I looked curiously at the glass that my mom handed me. I brought it up and sniffed the brown liquid inside - my nostrils filling with a potent alcoholic aroma. I brought the glass to my lips and noticed that Roger was watching me. I took a sip and my face twisted as the strong drink filled my mouth and burned my tongue.

"That's twenty year old scotch there," laughed Roger.

My eyes were watering, but I managed to swallow. I quickly looked at my mom to see her reaction, but her eyes were cast down in front of her. I did not like the look on her face -- it was expressionless, apathetic.

I brought the glass to my lap, wondering what the meaning of all this was.

"Manny, I wanted to tell you that I was talking to my friend, who is a professor at the college, about you," Roger said, as though guessing my thoughts. "He said he would be happy to help you get in, once you graduate from high school. Oh, and don't worry about paying for it. It's been taken care of."

A smile spread across my lips as I looked up. This was the best news I've ever heard. Too excited to speak, I took another sip of the scotch and prepared for it burning my mouth. I was surprised that it went down easier this time and now I felt a warm sensation in my stomach.

"Thank you, Roger," I finally said. "I don't know how I will ever repay you."

Roger smiled and waved his hand at me, dismissing me again. His eyes turned to my mother, who was standing with her hands clasped in front of her, wearing her work uniform which consisted of a white blouse, black mid-thigh skirt, stockings and black shoes with an elevated heel. She also wore a white headband that held her hair back.

"Your mom is quite a beautiful woman, isn't she?" asked Mr. Wilson.

I nodded. I've heard him give my mom compliments like that before.

"She is a natural beauty. Your father had an exquisite taste in women -- such shiny black hair, such mysteriously dark eyes and such smooth, brown skin; with such perfect, naturally large breasts and curvaceous body."

I was absent-mindedly nodding my head until his last words. A touch of unease crept into my chest. My eyes flicked back and forth between her and him, my mind quickly trying to figure out where this was going.

"Manny, have you ever seen a woman more beautiful that your mom?" Roger asked, his blue, almost gray, eyes peering right into me.

I didn't know what to say, but managed to croak "No."

"Neither have I. Look at her, Manny." That sounded almost like a command, so I obliged. "You see how her uniform is barely able to contain her big breasts?"

This was getting very uncomfortable for me, very fast. Somehow Roger's tone of voice had changed and was no longer soft. I looked at my mom and indeed noticed that her breasts seemed to be straining against the thin material of her blouse. Several top buttons on her blouse were undone and I saw a glimpse of her bra. Not knowing how to act in this situation, I dropped my eyes and stared inside of the glass in my lap.

"Don't be shy, Manny," I heard the old man say. "Maria, come sit down here." He indicated a leather chair right next to him and I heard mom take the seat.

I tried to make sense of everything. At first I thought this was going to be just a normal conversation about me going to college, but now it seemed that there was more to it. Was Roger having sex with my mom? Was he trying to tell me that he's going to marry her?

"It's hot in here, isn't it? Maria, why don't you undo a few more buttons?" I heard Roger say.

I began feeling a nervous tension building up in my stomach.

"Manny, do you like these uniforms? I was thinking that I need to improve them a little. Maybe make the skirts a little shorter. What do you think?"

I kept my head down.

"What do you think?" he asked again with a sharp edge in his voice.

Suddenly, I felt scared and lost. I felt my palms begin to sweat. Slowly I began raising my eyes, trying to think of something to say.

"Señor Wilson," I began, my voice unsteady, "I'm really grateful for everything you've done for us. But I'm really not sure what you want..."

"I'll tell you what I want!" Roger suddenly jumped out of his chair. For a brief moment he didn't seem so old and frail and there was a fierce twinkle in his eye. He walked up to the bottle of scotch and poured himself a glass. He stood silent for a moment, swirling the scotch around.

"Your mother is a sexy woman," he began, staring at a painting on the wall, "I've been to a lot of places in my life, but I've never seen the likes of her. Be it that I was younger I would marry her in a heartbeat. However, I'm not of that age anymore, and while I find your mother appealing, I am quite unable to do anything about it." He turned to look at me as if daring me to speak. "That's right! In my old age I've become impotent. Do you know what that means, Manny? Well, I'll tell you what it means. It means that I'm unable to do anything about my sexual desires."

I felt his eyes burning into me. I'm sure he was daring me to laugh at him, but I wasn't exactly in that kind of mood.

Satisfied that I didn't find his confession amusing, Roger continued: "There is one way I can satisfy my desires, the only way. I must watch, Manny. Do you understand? Watching brings me pleasure and quenches my urges. Since I can't do it myself, I must watch her with someone else."

Roger walked around my chair and stood behind me. He leaned in close and said quietly: "That is where you come in."

I did not know what this man, who now sounded crazy, was trying to tell me. I was quite disturbed by the fact that he was sharing such private information with me. The last thing I wanted to know was how this old guy satisfied himself. I stared at the scotch in my glass like it was the only sane thing in this fucked up situation.

"Do you understand, Manny? Do you understand what I'm asking you to do?"

"No," I let out, shaking my head.

"Oh, for crying out loud! Do I have to spell everything out for you people? I want to watch you fuck her, Manny."

"What the fuck!" I blurted out in a sudden onrush of emotions. I tried to get up off the chair, but a hand pushed me back down - it was Roger's hand and it was surprisingly strong. "You're fucking crazy, man! What the fuck are you talking about?" I screamed, sitting back down.

"Calm down!" boomed Roger's voice from behind. It seemed amplified by the walls of his study and had quite a profound effect on me. Instantly, I fell silent, but my face was hot and my heart was beating loudly. I was both angry and very afraid at the same time. I could do nothing but remain sitting in that chair.

"What do you mean 'calm down'?" I finally asked after a short period of silence. "How can I be calm? You just said you wanted me to fuck my mom. That's my mother!"

"I know." Roger's voice was calm and soft again. "After all I've done for you, I would expect you to be a little bit more appreciative. If I didn't get you out of Los Angeles, you'd most likely die in a gang related incident or overdose on some d**g. As they say, nothing good ever comes out of East L. A. I gave you hope. I brought you out of that shithole. I made sure that the school here accepted you -- the only non-white student. Did you know that in L. A. you went to one of the worst schools in the nation? Your old school's curriculum was way behind a normal school. Even if you were white, a simple transfer wouldn't be possible but thanks to me you were able to continue your education without any problems."

Roger began pacing around the room.

"Do you notice that the teachers treat you special? Yes? Do people in town smile at you? They never treat Mexicans or blacks like that around here. No, this isn't exactly a multi-cultural part of the country. These people don't take kindly to minorities. Do you know why they treat you nice like that? It's all because of me."

"Now I'm handing you an opportunity to go to college. Do you know that i*****l immigrants can't get financial aid? How could you ever pay for it, when your mother has a hard time feeding both of you? Would you throw this opportunity away?"

Roger turned and stared at me, waiting for me to say something. I looked over at mom, hoping she would chime in and tell this man that he was insane. But she sat quietly across from me, hands in her lap, eyes cast down. I saw that her blouse was now unbuttoned down past her ribs, reveling more of her bra.

"You're fucking crazy," I said looking up at Roger, but there was no real fight left in my words.

Roger chuckled -- a deep, wicked sound. "Maybe I am. Maybe I am. I have all the money that I could possibly want, but no real satisfaction in life. That was until I saw your mother. I knew then I had to see her. See her getting fucked well. As well as I once could, back in my younger days."

I closed my eyes and scowled. I did not want to hear this. I didn't care if this guy had a crush on my mother, but I wanted to take no part in his sick fantasy.

"Look, why don't you just ask Pedro or Diego to do it?" I suggested.

Roger shook his head. "Pedro is too old and Diego is too fat. Your mother deserves better than that."

"Why don't you go get someone else from the town?" I tried to reason with this maniac.

"If I get someone else, then rumors could spread. I have a reputation to uphold around here, you know. If any word gets out, people will start talking and it may ruin me. I've thought this through, you know. It has to be you." Roger looked at me and it gave me the shivers. "Neither you nor your mother would ever tell anybody that you've fucked each other. Am I right?" Roger's eyes seemed to twinkle. "It's all going to stay just between the three of us."

I glanced at mom again, wishing she would chime in, but she remained motionless - her face was an indifferent mask as she stared blankly at the Persian rug.

"I'm not sure why this has to be so difficult," sighed Roger. "After all, I am offering you a college education and all that I ask in return is for you to have sex with a beautiful woman."

"No. You are asking me to do it with my mom," I said sharply.

"Oh, please. That's just a minor inconvenience." Roger drank the rest of his scotch while watching me intently. "So what do you say, Manny?" he asked after a long moment.

"Fuck you," I replied.

Roger burst out laughing. He laughed for a good minute but then his laughter turned into a disturbing cough fit. He doubled over while coughing and it was a disturbing sight. When his cough finally settled, he whipped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked away.

"Okay. That's enough for today," he said. "Let's resume tomorrow. Same time, same place."

As soon as Roger said that my mom stood up, buttoned up her blouse and walked out of the room. I quickly sat the glass of scotch down and hurried after her.

"See you tomorrow!" I heard Roger call out when I slammed the door to his study behind me.

My mom walked so fast that I had to run after her.

"Mom," I called when I caught up to her in the courtyard. It was dark and I could barely see her.

"That guy is crazy!" I exclaimed. "What was all that about?"

Mom stopped and turned to face me.

"I know," she said. "He's a pervert -- an old, perverted pervert. But we have no choice, mijo."

I was taken aback by that. "What!? What do you mean, we have no choice?"

"Listen to me, Manny. Roger approached me two weeks ago. You know, the first night I went to him after dinner? He began hinting at things then. When I didn't understand what he meant, he got annoyed with me. He eventually told me exactly what he wanted. I got so angry that I wanted to kill him. I slapped him hard, but he only smiled -- that evil, devilish smile. He explained things to me then. He explained that we are in his complete power. He has the ability to help us or to ruin us completely. He knows who we are, Manny. He knows about your father. Did you know that Don Julio is now more powerful in Mexico than he's ever been? If he knew where we were, he'd kill us. Roger made it plain to me that he could turn us over to him in a blink of an eye, but he'd rather not. All he wants is his sick satisfaction."

"But... but there has to be something we can do," I said, not quite understanding why mom wasn't as upset as I was.

"You don't think I thought about it? I thought about it day and night. I pleaded with him to reconsider. I pleaded for him to keep you out of this. I offered to do things for him that I never want to repeat, but there was nothing else he wanted. There is no other choice."

"Why don't we just run away?" I asked.

"He warned me about that," my mother said gravely, "and said that he already has people watching us. You know, he's an important man here in Kansas and has many connections. Running away from here would be too dangerous. They would catch us and turn us over to Don Julio. We can't risk it."

My mother sighed heavily and dropped her head.

"You're not actually thinking of going through with this?" I couldn't believe all this was more real than just some old fool's babbling. This was all so unexpected, so sudden.

"Manny, I love you more than anything in this world. You are all I have left." My mother's voice trembled and she turned away. Her shoulders slumped and she began walking towards the house.

I stood there in the dark feeling confused and helpless. Slowly I made my way back to our quarters. When I got there, mom was already in her bed and the lights were turned off. I didn't want to disturb her, so I climbed in my bed still dressed.

I couldn't fall asleep for the longest time, thinking about what a fucked up situation I had found myself in.

***

The next day at school I couldn't concentrate on anything. I've had some time now to think about the situation that I've found myself in. I felt disgusted, scared and helpless. I wanted to run, but I knew it was hopeless. I imagined a dozen ideas about how we could escape from here, but each situation led us to be captured by Roger's men. I realized that I was afraid of Roger and I realized that we couldn't run from him.

After school, I walked home with a heavy weight on my chest because tonight I would have to return to Roger's study. My mind abstained from thinking about what he wanted me to do. I didn't want to even consider it and didn't think I could go through with the sick idea. I knew that my mother was beautiful, but that was just what she was -- my beautiful mother.

When I got to our room, mom was still at work. She wouldn't be back for another hour or so. I sat on my bed and tried to get my thoughts together. IThe only girl I ever got close to was Cecilia, back in L.A. I've kissed her several times and even felt her breasts press into me on one occasion. That was the extent of my experience with a girl.

Of course, I wasn't completely innocent. I have seen dirty magazines and movies. I knew what sex was and how it happened. I've seen naked porn actresses getting fucked in multitude of positions. Maybe that was why I was so disturbed. How could I think of my mother the same way? It wasn't right and I was disturbed. I had a bitter taste in my mouth and my hands were shaking.

When my mom finally got home, we didn't say a word to each other. I didn't even dare to look at her. We ate dinner that night in gloomy silence and afterwards mom went to take a shower. She was in the shower for what seemed like an eternity and I knew that once she was finished, we would have to pay Roger a visit.

Mom finally came out, already dressed in her uniform.

"It's time," she said quietly.

As if under a spell, I followed her out of the servants' house and into the courtyard. It was already dusk outside and the light was fading fast. We entered Roger's mansion and went up into his study.

"Ah, I'm glad to see you've returned," said Roger. He seemed to be in a good mood.

My mom went to stand by his chair, like the night before.

"Maria, will you pour me some scotch? Manny, can I offer you some?"

I shook my head.

"Very well, suit yourself." He smiled at me and gave me a satisfied look. "Come, sit down."

Roger gestured towards the same chair I sat in yesterday and I complied. He sat across from me and stared at me for a moment. I didn't return his gaze and hung my head.

Mom handed him a glass and he gulped from it thirstily.

"Let's begin, shall we? Maria, go ahead and take off your blouse."

My mind began reeling when I heard that and hot blood rushed to my face. Roger's words made everything suddenly very real and very imminent. I couldn't believe this was actually going to happen and felt like crying.

"Good. I'm glad to see you've put on the lingerie that I bought you," I heard Roger say. My heart was beating fast and I could hear it in my ears.

"Do you like it, Manny?" Roger asked after a moment.

I didn't dare to look up from Roger's expensive looking Persian rug.

"Manny!?" There was a dangerous note in Roger's voice and I slowly raised my eyes. I saw my mom, standing across from me, wearing a white, lacy bra -- the brown mass of her breasts bulging at the top.

"Now, Manny, be a good boy and do as I say. I want you to keep looking." Roger stood up and walked behind my mom. He unclasped her bra and it slowly fell away from her.

Against my will, my eyes grew wider. Roger was right -- mom did have perfect breasts. They were as silky brown as the rest of her skin and as round as ripe melons. The tips were crowned by dark brown circles and I could see her nipples jutting out proudly. I stared at them as though they were enchanted and tried to swallow but my mouth was dry. I heard an unzipping sound.

"Now, let's get this off as well, shall we?" Roger tugged lightly at my mom's skirt and it began slowly sliding down along her thighs.

I averted my eyes, but Roger commanded: "Look at her, Manny!"

I looked back at her.

As the skirt slid down I saw that mom was wearing a white garter belt that matched her bra. Suddenly, a patch of dark hair peeked out above the skirt. I held my breath, as I realized that mom wasn't wearing any underwear and I was about to get a good view of her pussy. A strange sense of curiosity began taking over my vulnerable mind. My body began shivering, but I no longer felt like crying.

The skirt slid down a few more inches and then fell away completely, revealing that the garter belt was attached to mom's white stockings.

Against my own better judgment, I looked right between mom's legs. As if in shame, my mom pressed her legs closer together. My mom's pubic hair was neatly trimmed into a long triangle and, just under that, I could see a slight parting of her flesh. It was like a tip of an arrow pointing the way.

"Ah, good," said Roger, stealing a look from behind mom. "It's just like I asked for. What do you think, Manny?"

I felt like my chest was being squeezed by a giant hand and I was happy to take my eyes off of my naked mother. I looked at Roger, but didn't say anything. He walked around my mom, marveling at her.

"Maria really does have a fantastic body. Look at those breasts, still so perky at this age." His finger traced around one of mom's nipples and trailed down the curve of her b**st. "Her stomach is so flat and her hips are so shapely," he continued as he walked behind her. "And that fantastic ass, I just want to take a bite of it. But I mustn't."

Roger seemed to be talking to himself more than anyone else. He walked in front of mom again and said: "Manny, why don't you come over here?"

I was too scared to move, but Roger gave me a commanding look. I wasn't quite sure if I was more afraid of him or of what I would be asked to do. Reluctantly I got up from the chair, eyeing a golf club in the corner of the room. I briefly wondered if I would be able to hurt Roger with it, but then I remembered his hand pressing down on my shoulder last night. I was too scared to try anything at the moment.

"You can't tell me this isn't the sexiest woman you've ever seen," he said when I shuffled up next to him. He gave me a quick glance and added: "Now that your mother is all naked, let's see what you bring to this party." He dropped into the chair near which we were standing and looked up at us. "Well, what's the matter? Are you shy? Maria, why don't you help your son out?"

Methodically, almost robot like my mom reached up and grabbed the bottom of my shirt and pulled up on it roughly. I followed along and raised my arms. The next instant, my shirt fell to the floor. My naked, skinny torso shivered even though it was quite warm in the room.

"Good," said Roger. "Now, the pants."

Mom hesitated and threw me a quick glance, one that was begging me to forgive her. Her hands reached for my belt. I was staring right at her face, afraid to let my eyes drop any further. I could tell that her hands were trembling by the way she tried to unbutton my pants. When the front of my pants was undone, mom grabbed them by the sides and paused. After a second of hesitation, she gave a tug and my pants fell around my ankles.

I was almost naked, wearing only my boxers, as I stood in front of my mother, who only wore her black work shoes, a pair of stockings, a garter belt, and a white headband. We both stood like that, motionless, facing each other.

"Well, let's get on with it," prodded Roger as he sipped his scotch. Slowly, mom brought her hands up again and hooked her index fingers into the waistband of my boxers. I swallowed nervously as I felt her fingers touch my skin. I tried to make eye contact with her, to signal her to stop, but she kept her eyes averted. I felt a tug downward and my boxers came off my hips, joining my pants on the floor. My body began to shiver even more.

"Hmm, I thought you'd be bigger," said Roger with a hint of amusement in his voice. Everyone in the room, including myself looked down at my crotch. My whole body was in such a state of turmoil that my cock has retreated inside of me as far as it could. I wasn't circumcised, so my foreskin was bunched together like a snout of an anteater. I never grew much hair on my body except the meager patch around my cock.

"Never mind that. Let's continue," I heard Roger say after a pause. "Maria, why don't you tend to your son's manhood?"

I saw a flash of anger in my mom's eyes and her body stiffened for a split second. I thought she was going to hit Roger and I thought back to the golf club. But her body relaxed just as fast and slowly she got down to one knee, then the other. When she was on her knees, she paused. I couldn't see her face anymore and I could only guess at the kind of thoughts that were passing though her mind. Here she was being forced to play with her own son's penis. I was sure that she was cursing Roger with the wickedest words in Spanish.

"Maria, just like we agreed," reminded Roger.

I didn't want to watch this so I set my eyes upon the row of books on the wall. I couldn't pick out one to concentrate on, my thoughts tumbling like clowns in my mind.

I suddenly froze as I felt something touch my cock. Knowing that it wasn't my own hand, my mind couldn't quite process this new and strange sensation. At first the touch was light, just the tips of the fingers grasping at whatever didn't retreat into my stomach. Then my penis was squeezed and gently twisted, my foreskin turning around my cock. The twisting motions continued several moments and I suddenly realized that despite this sick situation, my cock began to react. A few more seconds of the twisting and my cock was coming out of its hiding. As my cock grew at my mother's touch, her hand shifted position, and her palm and fingers wrapped around it.

I was suddenly disappointed with myself. What kind of a pervert was I that I got hard so fast from my own mother's touch? I felt my face redden in embarrassment and on instinct I hung my head. I was suddenly presented with a view of my mom's hand on my erect cock, her face about ten inches from my tip which was shyly peeking out of its sheath. Her hand was barely moving back and forth along my shaft.

"That is much better. I do apologize for my earlier comment," said Roger upon seeing my full erection.

Since I was pretty skinny my cock was also rather thin. It was only about six or seven inches long, but in my mom's small hand it looked quite big.

"Maria, you're not even looking. I thought we had an agreement," Roger added with a smirk.

Mom raised her head slightly, but from my angle I couldn't see her eyes. I figured that at this point it was for the best. It spared both of us some of the embarrassment.

"Come on, Maria. It's not a bomb. You don't have to be so gentle with it. Give it a good tug," instructed Roger.

My mom's hand shifted to grasp my dick closer to the tip and she gave it a firm squeeze. Her hand moved gracefully towards me, pulling the foreskin all the way back. I kept my head down as I watched my mom's hand move along my full length. It was like watching some side-show, where I knew it was disgusting, but I couldn't stop watching.

Mom kept yanking my dick back and forth, my cock head disappearing then reappearing in the foreskin. As my initial shock passed I was able to relax a little. Mom's uneven jerks weren't exactly what I would call a good hand job and there was nothing sexual about this situation. It became very apparent me, that it was my own mother doing something terrible against her will. In response to my thoughts I felt my cock begin to relax.

I guess Roger must have noticed my penis getting softer. "Well, that won't do," he said. "What's wrong with you, Manny? How can you go limp in front of a woman?" Roger looked at me and furrowed his eyebrows.

"She's my mother." I cut the words roughly out of my mouth.

"Oh, please," said Roger and snorted in displeasure. "Maria, why don't you see what your son tastes like?"

My mom's head turned so fast, that it was almost freaky. She faced Roger and glared at him. She said something in Spanish that even I didn't understand.

"Yes, yes," smiled Roger seeing my mom's reaction. "Go ahead and put it in your mouth." Roger's smile turned into a scowl. "I'm waiting."

My mom kept staring at him and I kept staring at my half hard dick which she held firmly. A sudden wave of tingles rose up from my stomach and made its way into my chest. I wasn't really thinking far ahead and I didn't picture that I might experience my first blowjob. Unbidden excitement began building up inside of me as I held my breath, wondering if my mom would give in. Her grip on my cock tightened, to the point that the head of my cock turned deep purple.

My eyes widened when my mom's head began to turn back slowly. Her hand moved and she pulled back the foreskin, exposing my mushroom tip. My cock was just barely stiff now, so it looked somewhat funny in her hand like that. She frowned and stared at my cock, seemingly considering her next move. And then her head began moving towards it.

I quickly shut my eyes. I still had enough conscience to decide that I wasn't going to witness this. I held my breath as I awaited the inevitable, but I was also strangely eager to receive my very first blowjob. I breathed in as I felt something warm enclose around my tip. I always imagined it would be warm and also wet, but mom was simply holding my cock in her mouth, like you'd hold a spoonful of bitter medicine. Nothing else happened for a while, with my cock wedged between my mother's stiff lips. I felt a moment of disappointment as I realized this wasn't what I was expecting.

"I hope this isn't how all blowjobs feel," I thought.

As if in response to my thoughts, Roger said: "Come on, Maria, don't make this difficult. Do I have to tell you how to suck cock?" He sounded ticked off.

I felt my mom's tongue reach out and touch the head of my dick. Her tongue drew back and then touched it again like she was probing it. Slowly her tongue began licking the underside of the tip. Her tongue flicked back and forth along my piss hole.

Mom's lips began relaxing and I she allowed more of my cock to enter her mouth. I felt a soft, warm, wet sensation envelop my penis. Curiosity got the better of me and I opened my eyes. I saw about haft of my chub wedged into mom's mouth. She held me like that in her mouth for a while longer and then slowly her head began moving back and forth.

Within seconds my cock was fully hard again. In fact, it felt harder than it ever was as it slid further into mom's mouth. I felt her open her mouth slightly wider to accommodate the sudden expanse of my cock.

I was getting my first ever blowjob and it felt better than I imagined. Mom's lips were forming a tight "O" around my shaft and her head was bobbing along. For those several enchanted moments I completely forgot that it was my mom that was giving me oral sex. Despite everything, this was the best feeling I've ever experienced.

I don't know how long my first blowjob lasted, but Roger's voice brought me back from the clouds: "Alright, that was very good, but I don't want you blowing your load just yet, Manny. Let's move on to the next event."

As soon as Roger spoke, mom practically spit my cock out of her mouth. My dick bounced straight up, glistening with her spit. Mom looked at it for a split second then turned her head, wrinkling her nose. Her tits moved up and down as she heaved for air. She shot a careful glance up at me and I felt a pang of guild in my chest.

"What am I doing?" I thought looking down at her.

"Manny," Roger's voice disrupted my thoughts. "Go ahead and sit down in that chair."

He pointed at the leather chair opposite to him and I followed his directions without thinking. As my bare ass slapped against the leather and I felt a jolt of cold run through my body. It was a big, comfortable chair and I half sat, half laid in it.

"Put your legs together, Manny. Good. Maria, go over there," instructed Roger.

Mom didn't move at first and I tried not to look directly at her. Slowly she walked up next to me and I kept my eyes lowered. She stopped right in front of me and I could see her lower half - her well-built legs and the patch of hair above her pussy.

"Okay. Now, turn around to face me. Put your legs to either side of his like you're going to straddle him. Just like that, yes."

It all was happening so fast that I didn't have time to comprehend that I was about to fuck my mom. Or more like, she was about to fuck me. She was now standing over me, over my raging hard-on, with her legs spread to each side. I flicked my eyes up and saw my mom's ass for the first time. She had a amazing ass. I wouldn't call it big, but she definitely had some meat on it. Her butthole was hidden between two round, luscious cheeks. And then I saw her pussy. It was right there before my eyes, within reaching distance.

I have fantasized so much throughout my teenage years about seeing a pussy in real life. Back in Los Angeles I was sure I would see Cecilia's soon. However, that plan came crashing when we moved to Kansas. Now I was seeing a real pussy, the pussy that set me on this world. But that wasn't what I was thinking at the time.

The sight of mom's pussy had me hypnotized. Her legs were spread and I could see her pussy clearly. Right between her thighs, I saw two fleshy mounds. Between those mounds, I could make out two neat rows of darker flesh and then inside of that I caught a glimpse of pink.

I wasn't thinking clearly at all now and I didn't blink once as I stared at my mom's private place. I began wondering what was taking so long. Mom continued standing over me like that -- her beautiful ass and pussy hovering over me.

"Now Maria," I heard Roger's voice though the haze in my head. "I want you to sit on his cock. I want you to ride him facing me, so I can see your pretty face." His voice sounded full of lust.

It was like a dream as I watched my mom's ass begin to descend. My cock was so hard that it pointed towards my chest and, as my mom squatted down, it missed the entry and she plopped down on my lap, pressing my dick down with her ass. The touch of her flesh on my dick felt amazing and I didn't even care if we were having sex yet or not.

Mom sat on my lap for several moments. Her body seemed tense and I couldn't even guess at the thoughts in her head. Eventually, she lifted her hips up a little and I saw her hand dart between her legs. She found my cock and grabbed it, pointing it straight up towards her twat. Under the bulk of my mom's abundant ass, my dick looked pretty insignificant; not at all like the dicks in the dirty magazines. However, I wasn't worried about that right now. My mom was lowering her hips again.

Mom pressed herself down in one motion and froze suddenly.

A warm feeling of bliss washed over my body as the tip of my cock entered inside of her pussy. I tried to clutch at the leather chair that I was sitting on, my sweaty palms sliding along. The feeling I was experiencing was unlike anything I could imagine. I must have blacked out for a moment, because when I came to my senses my mother had slid herself all the way down onto me. Once again she was sitting in my lap, with a slight difference.

My heart wanted to jump out of my chest and my face was hotter that red chili sauce. I felt the walls of mom's vagina squeezing all around my shaft. It was so incredibly warm and snug inside. I closed my eyes and let myself enjoy the feeling of being inside of a real pussy.

My enjoyment didn't last that long and I suddenly felt my balls begin to tingle. The tingle spread up the length of my cock and it began pulsating. Mom must have noticed my cock's reaction, because she tensed up again, her pussy giving my cock a firm squeeze. This was all too much for my young, inexperienced self. My balls bunched up and my whole body flexed at the onset of my orgasm.

My cock shot its first spurt deep inside my mom and my eyes went blurry. I thrust my hips up as I shot another load. I breathed out heavily each time another load came out of my cock. I must have unloaded six or seven times before I was finally out of ammunition.

I was breathing heavily when I finally came to my senses. My mom was still sitting on top of me. It didn't look like she had moved at all. Reality began washing over me. Now that my primal arousal was passing, my consciousness began to take over. I felt my chest constrict in panic as I realized what I had just done. A feeling of disappointment and guilt took over my mind.

"Well?" Roger's voice came out of somewhere. "Are you going to ride him?"

In response to that, my mom slowly raised up and my softening cock easily slipped out of her. It slapped against my stomach with a wet plop and then a river of spunk poured out of my mother's pussy and all over my crotch. There was so much of it that it looked like mom was pissing over me. Quickly the smell of fresh sperm filled my nostrils. I scowled in disgust.

As soon as most of the white, gooey liquid made its way out of my mom's pussy, she stood all the way up, walked over and picked up her clothes. Without saying anything or looking at anyone she walked out of the room and slammed the door behind her.

I was now face to face with Roger who stared at me in surprise.

"That was fast," he said with a twinge of disappointment.

"You son of a bitch," I blurted out and then quickly followed my mother's example. I grabbed my clothes and headed for the door.

"And you, my friend, is a mother fucker," said Roger right before I stormed out of the door.

I ran through the darkness and darted into a bush. I had to get dressed before someone saw me naked like this.

Quickly, I put on my pants and shirt.

"I just fucked my mom," I kept thinking. "I fucked my own mother, my mother who had cared for me my whole life; who worked hard to feed me and put a roof over my head. And how did I repay her? By fucking her?" My cock was still half erect and I wondered what was wrong with me.

"Dios mio," I said, squatting in the bush. "What have I done?"

I stayed hidden in the bush for quite some time, holding my head in my hands. The thoughts of what just happened were running around my mind like wild horses. I shook my head trying to clear it. I didn't want to go home and face my mom, but I knew that it was inevitable.

I took my time walking home, hoping mom would be asleep by the time I got there. I kept looking around to see if anyone was out, but everything was still and quiet. I looked at the servants' house and saw that the only light was coming from our room. I knew that my mother was there and I felt scared and uncertain. The longer I looked at the light, the more I didn't want to go inside. But knew I had to. I just didn't know what I would say to her.

I made my way inside of the house and slowly crept up to our door. I turned the handle and pushed the door open. My mom was sitting at the small table in the corner, the one we ate at. She was dressed in her pajamas and looked up as I entered.

"Come," she said in a soft tone, pulling back a chair next to her. "Sit."

I complied.

She took my hand into hers and squeezed it lightly.

"Emanuel," she said looking straight into my eyes. She only used that name when she wanted me to know she was serious. "I want you to know that no matter what, I still love you. You will always be my son and I would do anything for you."

All I could do was nod. Her eyes were filled with deep love and I felt my heart warm up.

"Everything will be alright," she said. "What happened back there..."

She paused and dropped her eyes.

"Let's not talk about that," I said.

"Okay, mijo. Okay. Please... try to forget about it."

Then she stood up and went to lie down on her bed. I remained sitting, trying to calm my agitated brain. After a while, I turned off the lights and went to sleep.

***

I didn't sleep well and the next day I woke up with a hazy mind. I was thankful that mom was already at work. As always, I found breakfast on the table. As I ate, I wondered if I could really forget about last night. What would happen now? Could we really go back to our normal life? Would Roger want more from us? Now, more than ever before, I was unsure about my future.

At school, I tried to keep my mind busy with the studies, but there was something changed about me. I felt more confident. I felt more like a man. I even noticed that a few girls looked at me different somehow. I guessed that it was because I was a man now; no longer a virgin.

When I got home from school, I picked up my math textbook and found the hardest problem in it. I tried to solve it, to keep from thinking about anything else. When mom came home I decided not to talk to her until she initiated a conversation. She simply smiled at me as she walked in and went to take a shower. For some unknown to me reason I followed her with my eyes, staring at the back of her uniform skirt.

After the shower, mom made us dinner and tried to make small talk, asking me about school and my grades. Somehow the conversation seemed awkward and there were a lot of uncomfortable silences. I was wondering if she had spoken to Roger and if he was satisfied, but I wasn't going to bring that up.

After dinner, I went to clean up the dishes and my mom said something about being tired and went to sleep. I guessed that maybe Roger was satisfied.

It was the weekend and it went by fast. I helped Diego plow some land and did other odd jobs around the ranch. I didn't see Roger at all and only saw my mother at dinner. The awkwardness was gone and we talked to each other like any other day. It seemed like we were getting back to our normal life and the night at Roger's study began feeling like a messed up dream.

The next week, as I was trying to memorize chemical elements after dinner, I saw my mom pick up her work clothes. She walked behind a large wooden screen, where she usually changed. Immediately, my body began to tremble, but it wasn't in revolt or guilt. It felt more like anticipation.

I didn't look up as my mom finished changing and walked up to me. She silently stood next to me for a long moment.

"Roger wants to see us," she finally said in a flat tone.

"Again?" I asked without looking up.

"Yes."

I closed my book and sat it down. I couldn't concentrate on it anyways. My mom headed for the door and paused. I stood up and followed her.

Roger sat smiling in his chair when we walked in. As before, mom went to stand at his side.

"Manny, how are you this fine evening?" cheerily asked Roger.

"Fine," I replied quietly, trying to look pissed off.

"Have a seat," he motioned.

The way Roger looked at me, I could tell what was about to happen. I sat down on the same chair that I fucked my mom on a week ago. I silently cursed myself as I felt something stir in my testicles. After all, I was probably going to fuck her again tonight.

Roger got up and went to pour himself a drink. He approached me and handed me a glass. I didn't want to take it at first, but he shoved it firmly towards me.

"Have a sip," he said firmly.

I grasped the glass and took a sip. It tasted differently, sweeter.

"French brandy," said Roger. "The finest I could find in Kansas. I think it'll be more to your liking. Drink some more."

I did.

Roger went back and sat in his chair. "I think we all know why we're here. Maria, do me a favor and get undressed."

My mom was staring off into the distance as her fingers began unbuttoning her blouse.

I didn't look and just kept drinking the brandy. I did see her blouse fall on the floor, followed by her bra. My heart began beating faster and faster. I felt a nervous knot in my chest when I saw mom's skirt join her clothes on the floor.

"Now, go over there, unzip his pants and fish out your son's cock," instructed Roger.

I heard my mom's walk silently over the Persian rug and I felt a tingle of excitement.

"Will Roger have her suck me again?" I wondered.

Mom approached me and knelt down. I sat, slouched over in the chair, as I watched her hands reach for my belt. Her hands looked steady as she undid my pants, then her hand dove into the opening in my boxers and brought out my cock. Unlike the other night, my cock was already filling out.

My mom squatted naked before me holding my cock as it grew in her hand. I quickly threw a shy glance at her and our eyes met. Her eyes were cold, emotionless.

"Now I want you to suck it," I heard Roger's voice from behind my mom. "Suck it like you mean it, this time." Mom rolled her eyes and set her jaw. She looked angry, but brought her head forward. She looked down at my dick, shut her eyes and brought her mouth down over it.

I couldn't quite believe that I was so eager to get sucked off by my mom. That thought was quick in passing as I felt her warm, slippery mouth engulf the head of my cock. She began sucking on my just the tip using her tongue and cheeks. It felt amazing.

Roger got out of his chair and came to stand over her. It was weird having him watching us like that and it took some pleasure out of this experience.

"You can do better than that," said Roger. "Go down on him further."

I was watching mom the whole time. She opened her eyes and I saw them look up where Roger was standing. Then she threw me a quick glance. Slowly she lowered her head about half way then came back up. She repeated that motion several times, going down a little bit further each time. I felt my tip touch the back of her mouth. My whole shaft was lathered with her spit now.

"Just like that," whispered Roger. "A little faster."

My mom's head began bobbing up and down a little more. It seemed she was doing only enough to fulfill Roger's requests. I noticed that I was enjoying this more than I should and I wasn't feeling weird about this at all.

I watched mom's lips slide up and down my cock. I could see her cheeks caving in and out. I could feel her tongue pressing up under my shaft and the roof of her mouth rubbing against my swollen tip.

"I'm going to cum," I whispered and my mom's eyes looked up at me. She backed away her head and was about to let me out of her mouth.

"No, no," said Roger. "Keep him in your mouth."

My mom's eyes flicked towards Roger again and she wrinkled her forehead, but her mouth slid back down. She gave me a couple more sucks and I couldn't hold it anymore.

I went cross-eyed as I shot a load inside of her mouth. She jerked her head up slightly and then another load shot out of my cock. She kept her lips over my tip as more cum oozed out of it. When I finally relaxed into the chair, she took her mouth off of me. I saw a look of disgust on her face, right before she turned over her shoulder and spit a mouthful of cum onto the Roger's Persian rug.

"Not on the rug!" whined Roger in halfhearted distress. "What did you do that for? You were supposed to swallow it."

My mom cursed at him in Spanish and then worked her tongue inside of her mouth. She spit on the rug again.

"Oh, well. I suppose that can be cleaned," said Roger smiling at my mom's defiant gesture.

As I watched this, I noticed that a dribble of my spunk must have escaped my mom's mouth because it was working its way down her right breast. It really was a bizarre sight, seeing my mom kneeling before me like that -- my cock standing proudly at full attention, my sperm sliding down her large, bare breast.

I did not go soft this time. In fact, I was as aroused as ever. I wondered where my guilt and shame went. I realized that my own mother made me cum so fast both times that I should be embarrassed. Alas, I felt no shame in this. I had nothing to be embarrassed about in front of my mom. She would understand. And Roger, well he was impotent.

"More brandy?" asked Roger, looking at me from the side. I looked at my glass and realized it was empty. No wonder I felt so light headed.

Without an answer from me, Roger grabbed the glass out of my hand and went to fill it back up. My mom turned to look at me. Her eyes looked worried as they were searching for something in my eyes. I recognized that look. She often looked at me that way when she wanted to know if I was okay. I gave her a slight nod. She looked at my stiff cock and shook her head.

Roger returned and handed me a refilled glass.

"Well, looks like Manny is ready for more," he said. "Shall we go on?"

My mom looked up at him, her eyes darting like daggers. "Enough for today," she said.

"Come on, Maria. The fun is just about to begin," Roger said. "Go ahead boy, stand up and take your clothes off."

My mom stood up and took a few steps back. I had a little trouble getting myself out of that chair. I've never drank this much of alcohol in my life. Clumsily I managed to get up and my pants slid down to my ankles. I almost tripped, but steadied myself on the armrest. Carefully I kicked off my pants and took off my shirt. I dropped my boxers and looked up. The room was slightly spinning in front of me as I looked around. I looked at mom, who was standing with her hands clasped before her pubic patch. Then I noticed the puddle of my semen soaking itself into the expensive rug. I snickered before looking at Roger, wondering what he'll have us do next.

Roger regarded me for a moment with amused eyes and then addressed my mom: "Maria, I want you to come over here and bend over this chair." He slapped the leather back of the chair.

My mom gave him a cold stare. Her eyes were full of hatred.

"Come on. The faster you do this, the faster you can go home," Roger said, sounding like a doctor trying to convince a patient.

My mom's rigid posture slackened and she w