Awakening On Titwhistle Lane CH. 05 free porn video

CHAPTER 5 – Boobs, Bikes & Bees

Damian couldn't believe his good fortune. He'd gone his whole life and never had a girl pay him much attention...but those days appeared to be over. Just recently he'd had his cock smothered between a pair of beautiful, black tits, received a handjob from a woman nearly three times his age, shot more cum than he thought possible, and only the gods of boners and boobs knew what would be next. It was like a spell had been cast over Titwhistle Lane and he was the recipient of some very good karma.

Things around the Sizemore home had seemed a little odd since Damian's graduation. His mother had taken a greater interest in the boy's day to day activities, hovering over him whenever she had a chance. She was cheerful enough, but seemed a little edgy...skittish. Damian was sure it was due to the unfortunate episode, where he'd flashed her with his stiff cock - that was a mental image he'd never be able to erase. She had assured him that was not the case but he still couldn't help but wonder.

Aside from his mother's modified behavior, Damian had also noted some changes in her appearance and dress. She normally enjoyed hanging out at home in loose-fitting, casual clothing and with very little makeup. However, recently, and perhaps he was wrong, she always looked 'ready'...for what he wasn't sure.

After his episode with Mrs. Wentworth, he'd lain awake wondering what his mother had been doing behind the locked door of her bedroom. She'd certainly been loud enough, giving rise to incoherent shrieks of mindless gibberish that he'd heard through the door. It seemed only obvious that she had climaxed, but by what means he couldn't even imagine, given the animalistic nature of her cries.

Saturday brought a new day for the residents of Titwhistle Lane. For the most part, the men of the lane were home; some doing yard work, while others watched sports or tinkered in their garages. The Sizemore's were no different. Damian was caught up with his yard-care service and had no specific plans. He'd slept in, enjoying the extra couple of hours in the sack, but as always, he awoke with a throbbing hard on. Rolling from his bed he donned a pair of pajamas, pulling his engorged cock up toward his belly to be hidden beneath the top. He had been extra careful, as of late, to avoid flashing his mother again. The last thing he needed, or wanted, was to have another awkward discussion about his anatomy.

Slowly he opened his bedroom door a crack to see if the coast was clear. All appeared fine until he stepped into the hallway and turned for the bathroom.

"Hey, Damian," he heard his mother shout from somewhere on the main floor. "You up now?"

The boy paused and turned to answer, "Yeah, I'm just headed to the bathroom."

"Can you hold off a sec? I really need your help," she replied, with some urgency.

"Well, I'd rather..."

His mom quickly interrupted him, demanding he heed her call – “NOW”.

"Okay, okay," he said. "What's so urgent that I can't even take a leak first?" He uttered the words under his breath, hoping she might hear him...and she did.

"The urgency, young man, is..." she hollered, before he cleared the top of the stairs and could see why she'd demanded his help.

In the entryway of their home a tall, aluminum ladder stretched from the floor to a couple of feet below a chandelier that hung from a vaulted ceiling. Stephanie was on the top step of the ladder with her arms filled to overflowing with the opulent light's expanse. She appeared teetering on the brink of losing the crystalline fixture when Damian came to the rescue.

He rushed down the stairs and up the ladder. Pressing himself to his mother's back and reaching around her, he helped steady both her and the light. "What are you doing?" he asked, his heart pounding through his chest.

"I wanted to clean this old thing, but I didn't realize it was so heavy until I disconnected the power and lifted it from its anchor. It's a good thing you heard me when you did."

"I'll say," Damian agreed. "So, now what do we do?"

Stephanie's first thought was to get them both safely down the ladder, but the more she became aware of the pulsing shaft between the cheeks of her ass, the more she wanted to postpone their descent. "Perhaps we should just rehang it and I'll clean it piece by piece from the ladder."

"Yeah, you could do that," Damian agreed, "but you've already gone this far. We may as well take it down and do it properly. I'll help put it back when you're done."

Without thinking, Mrs. Sizemore arched her back and pressed her butt back against the front of her son's pj's. She could feel a distinctive heat through the yoga pants she'd ***********ed as her day's attire. Damian didn't give the unusual pressure a second thought, being so focused on the task at hand, but his mother was certainly thinking about it.

"Come on," Damian encouraged. "If we take it a step at a time, with both of us holding it, we'll be fine."

"Okay, Dear. Let's give it a try." And with that the two started their descent, a rung at a time. Each subtle movement of Damian's cock, made Stephanie weak in the knees and she had to really concentrate to avoid collapsing into his arms. The two worked as a well oiled machine: Damian would step down a rung, steady the fixture and wait for his mother to join him. The overall flow of their movements would briefly release his cock from contact with her backside, only to be taken up again as she stepped to join him. Upon each step down, the head of his bladder-induced erection would touch directly between the cheeks of her ass and then slide up the crack to finally come to rest deliciously placed, with the head pressing into the small of her back.

Seven, eight, nine steps and they finally reached the bottom and were able to place the massive chandelier on the floor. Stephanie turned to face her son and hugged him tightly. She made sure to squeeze him tight enough to feel the firmness of his shaft between her legs and up her abdomen. She wanted desperately to grind against him, but that would be wrong...insane.

"Thanks, Son. You saved my life this morning," she said, stepping away before she did something stupid. "What's with the jammies?"

"Oh, just feeling lazy and didn't want to flash you again."

"Yes, that would be unfortunate," she said, wishing for another look at his penis. "Well then, run up to the bathroom before you burst the band of your bottoms and I'll fix you some cereal."

"Thanks, Mom. I'll be right down."

As Damian stood at the toilet, trying to figure out how to get his stream aimed into the bowl, he thought of what his mother had said, 'burst the band of your bottoms'. She'd noticed his hard cock again, and then he remembered the sensation of it pressed so tight against her ass. At the time, he'd not enjoyed it but he somehow wished he had. Thinking of it now, it made urinating accurately impossible so he finally opted for the next best thing. Turning on the shower, the young man peed against the shower wall while standing just outside the enclosed space. It seemed crazy but it worked...and it was far better than spraying urine all over the bathroom.

Returning to the main level, Damian was greeted with another hug and kiss on the cheek. "Did I hear the shower?" Steph asked.

"Um...yeah."

"But you've not showered," she said, puzzled.

"I...a...a...couldn't quite get my aim right so I just peed into the shower. I hope you're not mad."

"You what?" she exclaimed, laughing.

Damian joined in laughing. It was the first time in days that he'd felt things were completely normal between them. "I was just thinking outside the box like you taught me," he said in between chuckles.

"Well, I can't very well be angry then...can I?" Stephanie pointed to the table where she'd poured a bowl of Fruit Loops for her son. "There's your loops. I'll be busy for a few hours, but why don't we go for a bike ride after lunch?"

"That sounds great, Mom. I think I'll watch some tube and maybe play some Xbox...unless you want some help with the chandelier."

"No...no...you've worked hard all week. I can manage the cleaning on my own...but I'm thinking I better change. I'd hate to ruin these expensive yoga pants before I've had a chance to wear them much."

"K...cool. Just holler when you're ready to hang that monstrosity back in the entryway."

Damian took his bowl of cereal and headed to the basement, not too worried about staying in his pajamas. His mother, on the other hand, was quite concerned about what she might wear. She peeled the tight fitting spandex pants off and tossed them on a nearby chair. The sweatshirt was next. It didn't seem quite appropriate, now that Damian had primed her pump with his sturdy 'handle'. Rummaging through a drawer filled with light T's and casual shirts, she found what she was looking for. It was a low-cut, V-necked cotton shirt that had been well-worn and was paper thin. "Perfect," she muttered softly. "Oh...that's got to go," she said, looking at her bra in the mirror.

With the adroit skill of a surgeon she unclasped the brassiere and added it to the discarded sweatshirt and yoga pants. For a moment, she admired her profile in a full-length mirror that stood next to her dresser. She brought both hands to her bust and briefly kneaded them. They weren't as firm as they once had been but they were still impressive. Cupping the left breast, Mrs. Sizemore bent her head to take the nipple between her teeth. It wasn't an easy task but it was worth it. She flicked her tongue over the thickening nub and then squeezed both provocatively as she watched herself in the mirror. "You are naughty," she said quietly. Sliding another drawer open she dug through a pile of bras until she found the one she was looking for. It was just as white as the shirt and equally sheer. Looking at the tag she confirmed the size - 34C.

Packing her rather full 34DD's into the smaller bra was a challenge but yielded the result she was looking for. The top of her tits were overflowing and her nipples were crushed against the ultra sheer cups. Am I being too much of a tease? she thought, as a wave of guilt passed through her. After-all, it was all in good fun. If Damian and his friends thought she was a MILF, she'd give them a MILF...but one they couldn't touch. Again, she looked at her reflection. "Okay then," she said, slipping her thong off. It too joined the other discarded items. From her drawer she pulled out a pair of rather plain panties that were full coverage and not the least bit sexy. They were followed by shorts that were knee length and not form fitting. With the ensemble completed, she stood in front of the mirror once again.

"Not too sexy...but fun," she confirmed, rationalizing the bombshell top with the ho-hum bottom. It was all the assurance she needed to placate her conscience, before she skipped down the stairs and began cleaning the chandelier.

Ninety minutes later Damian called to his mother from the basement. "Hey...how's it going up there? You about done?"

Stephanie inspected her handy work and was quite pleased to see what a beautiful job she had done. The crystals glimmered in the sunlight that was streaking through a large exterior window. Putting her hands into a newly replenished bucket of clean water and suds, she yelled her reply, "Yes, come see what you think." With the invitation extended, she pulled her sopping hands from the pale and transferred the moisture to her tits. She went back for seconds and then thirds, wanting her son's initial shock to be memorable...just as hers had been a few days before.

Seconds later, Steph heard Damian take the steps, two at a time, before he slid around the corner and into the room where the chandelier rested on the floor. His mother had assumed the same position she had a few minutes before; her hands on her hips and bust thrust forward. She stared approvingly at the fixture and waved her hand over it, like Vanna White revealing a letter.

"Well, what do you think?" she asked, when her son's eyes fell on her.

Damian's gaze initially went to the chandelier, as he'd followed her gesturing hand, but it didn't take long for him to swing it back to the spectacle that was his mother. He tried without success to avoid staring at her soaked bust.

"Well?" she asked again.

"Oh...yeah...they look great...I mean, it looks great," he said, tripping over himself.

"It should," she said, drawing attention to her chest. "Made a mess of me. There's so many little pieces to wash and so much dripping water. Anyway, you can see the end result," she said invitingly, turning to face him directly and running her hands over her tits. "I'm going to have to change before we go for a ride."

Stephanie made a point of walking around the room for a few minutes, wiping up spills and putting the cleaning supplies away. She was very much aware that Damian had not moved, yet she could feel his eyes burning into her smoldering flesh...and it felt amazing.

"Mom," he finally said, "do you mind if I take a quick shower before we go? My hair's gross and I'd hate to have anybody see me."

Mrs. Sizemore bent over to pick up something directly in front of the boy, and nodded her approval. "Sure, that's fine. Just don't take too long. I'll hurry and change too, but let's first get this fixture rehung before you shower."

A few minutes later Damian was in the shower lathering up his semi-erect cock. As well, Stephanie was in her room rubbing the rounded heel of one of her favorite red pumps against her swollen labia, and the chandelier was blazing bright in their home's foyer.

"We weren't thinking, were we?" Damian's mom asked, as the pair pulled their cycling helmets over their heads.

"Nope. So much for washing my hair," the boy replied, but he knew taking a shower earlier had nothing to do with washing his hair.

The pair were decked out in their spandex cycling gear. Mrs. Sizemore had bought the clothing and bikes for them the summer before, hoping riding together would give them a chance to talk and bond. It had done just that and they both were looking forward to their first ride of the season. As much as Stephanie wanted to continue the tease she had going, she had opted for safety and was now strapped in with a sports bra and tight fitting lycra top.

"So?" Steph asked, posing like a professional sports figure with her bike between her legs.

"Mom, you look great," Damian began, "but...I think mine shrunk."

"What!" she exclaimed. "This stuff was expensive and shouldn't shrink. Come here...let me see."

Damian was genuinely flustered, as he stepped to where his mother could see his outfit. Until now he had made a point of concealing his front. "I don't think I can go," he said halfheartedly, as he allowed his mother to see the predicament he was referring to.

Stephanie was immediately taken aback by he boy's appearance. "Damian, they've not shrunk...you've grown."

"It's hideous," the boy whined, covering his constrained bulge with both hands.

"It is not hideous," his mother snapped. "It's just...it's just really packed in there. It's fine. Come on, let me see again to be sure."

Damian slowly slid his hands to either side of his groin. "You can see everything," he said, blushing deeply.

"Well," Stephanie began, licking her lips. "It is rather obvious, but it's certainly nothing to be ashamed of...and anyway, who is going to see us. You'll be on your bike and nobody with be the wiser."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Of course I am. Mount your steed and let's be on our way."

The duo made their way down Titwhistle Lane, waving and calling out to those that were enjoying the sunshine. Damian tried to remain detached, thinking all was well until Emily Ravenbach called out to them.

"Hey, Damian. Looking good, my man," she shouted from her driveway. He raised up and offered a hearty wave, which was returned with a wink.

"She seems to be in a good mood," Stephanie said, smirking at her son.

"Yeah, well...it's a pretty day...I guess."

"Mmm hmmm," Stephanie hummed in reply.

Leaving the gate that announced Titwhistle Lane, the pair headed north, winding their way along the river and around the city's largest park. There were scores of individuals and families out and about. Damian had finally forgotten about his package problem and was enjoying the day. His mother was also having fun, but she was having a difficult time forgetting the sight of Damian's cock extending down the leg of his cycling shorts. It was almost pornographic but she didn't want him to know that. He struggled enough and didn't need to be more self-conscious than he already was. But...really...truly...the head may have just as well been danging there in free space. The rim was so thick that it left nothing to the imagination.

Oh, well, she thought. It's a problem that's not insurmountable. We'll just have to deal with it.

Thirty minutes later, Stephanie Sizemore turned back down their Lane, headed for home. Damian followed at a safe distance, working the peddles in rhythm with his mother's swaying ass. She was about to turn into their drive when she heard a frenzied call for help, which was quickly followed by the sound of Damian smashing into the curb and going down. Stephanie turned about to see her boy go headfirst over his handlebars. He looped high in the air before crashing down on his left shoulder and hip. The accident happened in the blink of an eye, but strangely, time seemed to come to a standstill for Stephanie Sizemore.

"No...no..." the woman shouted, ditching her bike to run back to where Damian had gone down. "What happened?" she screamed. It only took her a few seconds to dash to his aid, and once at his side she immediately began assessing his injuries, as any mother would do.

"Bee!" Damian shrieked. "I got stung. I've been stung."

"Shit," Stephanie cried. "Where's your EpiPen?"

"I don't know, Mom. I think I forgot it."

This was not the first time that the mother/son team had dealt with Damian's anaphylaxis. From the time he was a small boy he had been deathly allergic to bees. He normally was good about packing his EpiPen but being their first bike ride they had overlooked perhaps the most important thing. As Stephanie was considering her options, a helping hand appeared on her shoulder. It belonged to Alice Bottomley, who was staring down at her through dark sunglasses, which did little to mask her sharp features and angular jaw. Her multicolored, streaked blonde tresses hung down, framing her pretty face and giving her a youthful appearance. She had seen the boy crash and had come running.

"Has he been stung?" she asked.

"Yes...and he's bleeding," Stephanie noted. "I've got to run and get his EpiPen before he goes into shock. Will you stay with him?"

"Of course. Go on - get that pen."

Damian's mom turned and bolted away, her arms pumping against an imaginary resistance that she felt was holding her back. "Come on, Steph...run...run..."

At Damian's side, Alice was rifling through a fanny pack that was wrapped around her waist. "Damian, where are you stung. Where did it get you?" she asked, her voice rising in intensity. She looked him over, noting how his lips were already swelling and his skin color changing. "Where, Damian?" she shouted.

"Um...um..." he mumbled over a thickening tongue. "Back...shoulder blade."

The boy was lying on his side so Alice rolled him further on his front and jerked his shirt to his neckline. The puncture was small but obvious as a raised, red welt had already formed around the lesion. From her little pack she finally found what she was looking for and removed a single cigarette. She broke it in half, touched an exposed area of tobacco to her tongue and then plunged it onto the welt. "This will help, Damian. It'll drain some of the venom while your mom gets what you need."

In a panic, Stephanie raced through the house and into her son's room. She scoured his things looking for the lifesaving device, and finally found it sticking out of a pair of jeans hanging in his closet. "Dumb, damn kid," she barked, as she ran from the room.

Racing back to the scene, Stephanie was pleased to see that Damian was still coherent, breathing and alive. "Did you find it?" Alice called to her friend as she saw her approach.

"Yes...yes...I've got it!" Stephanie grunted, as she dropped to his side. She pushed Damian's leg and hip back enough to get a good angle at his outer thigh and then she drove the EpiPen home, burying the needle to the hilt. She immediately injected the epinephrine and pulled the device free from her son's leg. His response was almost immediate: his breathing eased rapidly, color returned to his cheeks and his tongue no longer threatened to shut down his airway.

"I think he's going to be okay. I think the worst is over," Stephanie sighed.

"That was a close one. I'm glad I saw it happen and could help," Alice said, patting Steph on the leg. "I don't know if that cigarette trick does anything but I always carry one, just in case. I'm a little sensitive to stings, but nothing like your son."

"Well, we're glad you were here too. Aren't we, Damian?" Stephanie asked.

"Yup," was all the boy could muster, his mouth still feeling oversized and foreign.

"His hip is pretty roughed up," Alice noted. "He's got some nasty road rash there and on the shoulder but nothing's broken. I gave him a once over while you were gone. I don't think he'll need anything now except to be cleaned up and put to bed."

"Yeah, I believe you're right," Stephanie agreed. She had known Alice for a few years and trusted the woman completely. She was an extreme fitness buff and knew more about the body than some doctors. If she felt Damian was going to be fine, that was good enough for her.

"Damian, do you think you can stand?" Alice asked.

He nodded in the affirmative and rolled completely over onto his stomach. He pulled his knees up underneath him while pushing his hands from his shoulders to the ground. With the help of both ladies he was soon on his feet and wobbling towards home.

"If you can manage him, Steph, I'll put your bikes in the garage and then join you inside."

"That would be great, Alice. Just come upstairs. We'll be in his room."

"Great...be there shortly."

A few minutes later, Alice bounded up the stairs to the upper floor and made a right into Damian's room. The boy was sprawled out on his bed, with most of his weight resting on his right hip and side, thus posturing him with his back to the entry. Stephanie stood over him trying to decide what to do first, but once her friend rejoined them, Alice seemed to take charge.

"Steph, get some scissors, gauze, antibiotic ointment, alcohol and steri-tape. We're going to have to cut his shorts off and maybe his shirt. The way the gravel is biting into his wounds it will be far less painful if we cut and then peel them off."

"A...what?" Damian grunted.

"Just relax, Love. We'll take good care of you," Bottomley assured, patting the boy's upturned butt.

"Okay, I think I've got everything," Stephanie announced, while carrying a tray covered with assorted items. "You still breathing okay, Son?' she asked.

"Yeah, I guess so. My mouth is just rubbery."

"I brought some Benadryl. That should help."

"But it makes me feel so out of it," Damian complained.

"I know, but I don't think you have any choice. We need to get these allergic symptoms under control before you really get sick."

"Okay...okay...whatever you say."

"Stephanie, why don't you go ahead and give him a dose of that and then we'll get started," Alice suggested.

The women began with the shirt, carefully cutting away sections of it to expose the underlying skin. They inspected, cleaned and dressed the scrapes as they went. Satisfied they had done a good job, they went to his hip. By this time, the drugs has calmed the boy and he was snoring lightly.

"Probably a good thing he's asleep. He's a little freaked out lately about his junk," Stephanie said, winking at Alice.

They both laughed, finding it amusing how infatuated men are with their penises.

"Well, I won't tell a soul, besides I'm sure he has nothing to be embarrassed about. He seems like a perfectly healthy young man," Alice assured.

Working like a well-practiced surgical team, the ladies did the same for his left hip: cutting, cleaning and dressing. Again, happy with the job, they were left with the final task of removing the remnants of the lad's shorts.

"Would you like me to stay and help?" Alice asked. "I'd hate to have Damian mad at me for checking out his junk, especially if he's so self-conscious."

"Well, he'll never know – will he – and I could use your help," Stephanie said, invitingly. Damian's mom was sure she could have done the job on her own but was curious to see how her friend might react to her Damian's huge cock.

"Okay, probably easier to roll him on his back, and then, when we've got it cut away, you can just slide it out from underneath him. Sound like a plan?' Alice asked.

"Yup. Let's give it a go," Stephanie said, quite anxious herself to see the appendage without Damian's hands fluttering to hide it.

Rolling the boy onto his back, his breathing continued to be steady and calm. The portion of his shorts, that had previously been cut, was dangling precariously over the boy's cock, and with the fabric no longer stretched it was difficult to gauge what may lay beneath. Taking the scissors in hand, Stephanie carefully cut from the hem to the waist on the opposite hip, effectively turning his cycling shorts into a loin cloth.

"I think that's got it,” Damian's mom assessed. “If you'll lift his legs slightly, I'll slide this bloody thing out from underneath him and then I guess he can just sleep under a sheet until he's up to getting dressed."

"That should work, Steph. So I'll just maneuver here between his legs," Alice said, more to herself than anyone else. She had to kneel on the bed to get properly aligned, and then she gave Stephanie a nod when she was ready. Wrapping her arms around Damian's knees she hefted him upwards, his groin thrusting towards her face while the boy's mother slipped the shredded garment from below him.

Stephanie shot a look at Alice now that Damian's cock was bare and only inches from Bottomley's lips. It appeared the woman was transfixed, her eyes locked on a thickly hooded cobra that had instantly hypnotized her. Steph remained silent, wondering how long it would take for Alice to say something, do something...or even breathe.

Alice thought she had seen every possible type of body part: every size, shape, color and proportion...but she'd never seen a flaccid penis that was so long and thick. She had not wanted to be obvious, but had given up on the idea the moment she saw the magnitude of the boy's cock. Looking from his thigh to his cock and then from his forearms and back to his cock, she couldn't even imagine how it was possible.

"He's quite thin," was all she managed to eek out.

"What was that?" Stephanie asked, also unable to take her eyes from her son's prick.

"How can he have such a large...I mean...it's incredible...and so beautiful. I can only imagine what it must look like when it's angry."

Stephanie didn't want to give too much away so she remained silently amused.

While the two friends studied every detail of the boy's unit, he suddenly twitched and opened his eyes. "What? Where?" he slurred.

"Looks like our patient is coming too," Alice said, reluctantly releasing his legs to lay him back on the bed. She gave his cock one last fleeting, longing look before she said her goodbyes and hustled home.

At Damian's side, Stephanie pulled a sheet over the boy, but in doing so she sensed a bit of warmth around his neck. She investigated further by feeling his forehead. "Yup," he's getting warm. Stepping away for just a few seconds, she returned with a small basin of cold water and a wash cloth. She dipped the cloth in the water, rung it out thoroughly and then mopped at his brow, neck and upper chest. The boy moaned lightly as she stroked his skin with the cloth.

"Damian, you doing okay?" she asked, dipping the cloth in the basin.

"Mom? That you?" he asked, lazily.

"Yes. I'm right here. You're running a little fever and I think you better have some more Benadryl. It will help you sleep."

"Okay...whatever you think."

Seconds later, Damian had taken another dose of the anti-allergy medication and a Tylenol.

"Don't worry," Stephanie assured. “I'll stay here until I'm sure you're okay." She didn't need to wait for a reply, seeing full well that he was already dreaming.

Returning to the task of cooling him down, she brought the rinsed cloth back to his neck and upper chest. She pushed the sheet down to his waist and used her free hand to determine where his skin was in need of her attention. She looked at his bandaged shoulder and lightly touched the dressings, making sure they were secure and not in need of changing. With her right hand she cleaned and cooled the skin while her left hand continued to wander in search of 'hot spots'. Unwittingly, both her hands found their way to the boy's pectorals and his stiffening nipples. They were very average, hairless and pink, but they stood at immediate attention when his mother's fingers passed over them. She went back to them again and again, fascinated by the way they etched patterns in her palms. She lost track of time until she was alerted to a distinct change in Damian's breathing. It was suddenly shallow and somewhat raspy.

"What's wrong?" she whispered, not expecting Damian to answer.

But then, scanning her son from head to toe her quandary was answered. There, peeking well above the border of the sheet, his cock was dancing and thumping in time with his heart - the head would drop, striking his tight stomach before it arched up, taking the sheet with it. It continued it's bizarre dance until Stephanie could take it no longer and she pulled the sheet aside to take in her son's cock, fully bloated and extended.

With no one to judge her and no need to hurry, Mrs. Sizemore sat at Damian's thigh and simply watched the performance. It was now Stephanie that was in need of the cooling cloth. She reached for it and wiped away the sweat that was forming between her tits and the nape of her neck. Being so close to the boy's distended prick, she could feel heat steaming from it like a radiator heating a room. "He's too warm," she told herself, no longer able to think rationally.

Soaking the washcloth again, she tentatively ran it around the boy's lemon-sized testicles. They instinctively recoiled and pulled up towards his abdomen...and Damian stirred. "It's okay, Honey. Just cooling you down," she said, convincing herself that all was well.

Again, she dipped the cloth and returned to his balls, but found his bobbing shaft to be a distraction. With a single finger she pushed the lumbering rod first one way and then the other to fully address his scrotum. Finally satisfied that his balls were amply cooled, she turned her attention to the swollen shaft. "Too warm...it's just too warm...got to cool it down," she breathlessly whispered, knowing she was lying to herself...but she didn't care.

For a final time the cloth was submerged, but this time brought to bear on the boy's straining cock. Stephanie wrapped it around the shaft and was taken by it's girth and spongy texture. "Cool down, Baby," she cooed, beginning to slide the wet cloth up and down his hot, throbbing cock. She brought it down to the base and swirled it a single time around his balls, just to watch them jerk back to attention in his sack. Back at the root, she squeezed and watch the veins fill and pop into view. The circumcised head ballooned with the increased pressure and a glistening pearl of pre-cum oozed from his slit.

He might cum, she imagined - the thought sounding alarm bells in her head, which went unheeded - but if he did it was a sight she simply had to experience. She'd gone too far to turn back now. Giving up the pretense of nursing him with the cooling water, the boy's mother tossed the cloth aside and knelt beside him, facing his monstrous prick. The droplet, perched atop the tip of his cock was calling to her, and she knew how to reply. Bending forward, she wrapped both hands around his towering member and brought her mouth down to lick the pre-cum away.

"Mmmmm...tasty," she moaned, as she used her tongue to spread the slick substance over her lips.

With a warped, delirious, and almost maniacal grin, Stephanie returned to the task of milking her son's cock. She watched his face distort, as she imagined him having a most delicious dream. This will help him rest, she told herself, fighting against a conscience that was losing the war. The final barrier was smashed when she felt moisture leaking from between her swollen pussy lips. That was it – the white flag was up and she surrendered to her lustful nature.

Like a starving lioness at a feeding, she attacked Damian's cock with renewed vigor, pumping the shaft with one hand while trying to steady it with the other. She squeezed and manipulated the meat for her own reward, needing to satisfy a gluttonous hunger that was burning deep within her soul. Rewarded with more dripping goodness, Steph lapped it up, all the while watching Damian's face for any sign of waking.

"So damn good," she whined, no longer able to control the slut within her.

Jacking the beast, she used his own natural lubricant to speed up the motion from root to tip. Both hands were suddenly a blur and she knew he was close. Suddenly the image of the bedpost rammed up her cunt filled her mind and she quickly released Damian's throbbing cock and shed her shorts and panties. She stood over the boy and squatted, just enough, to bring his plump head into contact with her aching clit. A warmth spread through her like a wildfire, tingling every nerve and awakening a sense of urgency she'd never known.

She continued to watch his face for any sign of life, only breaking the stare long enough to ensure she was rubbing his cock-head precisely where she needed it. Back and forth she rubbed his burgeoning head, soaking it with her own juices - and then she saw it - that unmistakable look that comes over a man when he's about to empty his tortured balls.

"Oh, Baby...give it to mommy," she wailed. "Let me see that fucking cum." She growled the command, praying the drugs were keeping Damian adequately suppressed.

And then, as if on cue, the boy's cock stiffened, the muscles constricted and an impressive volume of semen blasted upward, coating his mother's greedy snatch. Stephanie was no longer interested in watching his face, but rather, was mesmerized by the action between her legs. A second geyser ricocheted off her clit and splattered on the boy's chest - it was more than she could take. Leveraging herself at the right angle, she let her knees buckle and she engulfed Damian's shaft in one smooth, deliberate thrust. His cock impaled her like Excalibur being brutally returned to its scabbard after a tremendous fight.

Quivering, her own waves of orgasm matched his, both pumping cum at a furious pace, forcing their life-giving liquids to blend and swirl together. She dared not move or lift herself, but marveled at how full she was and how deliciously wicked her climax had been. She could feel cum dripping from her cunt, but paid little attention as she was lost to a vortex of pleasure that was holding her captive...but not against her will.

With her eyes closed, she moaned softly, rocking ever so slightly against his frame. His cock twitched a final time but showed no sign of shrinking. In time, her heart slowed and her head began to clear.

"Stephanie...oh...what have you done?" she sighed.

Finally, when she'd come back to her senses, Mrs. Sizemore opened eyes to see what damage she'd done. Her fiery locks were plastered against a perspiration coated brow and neck. Sweat rolled between her breasts to eventually mingle with a pool of cum between her legs. Her gaze followed the wet trail from her bust to cock-filled pussy and she knew it was time to disengage the weapon from her sheath.

Looking at Damian she was relieved to see that his eyes were still closed and he appeared to be slumbering quietly. Pushing against his chest, she started to lift away, slowing letting the semi-rigid cock peacefully withdraw from her sopping cunt. Strangely, all the woman's senses seemed heightened: she heard every squishy tone, felt every subtle pulse, smelled the faintest of scents, and saw...and saw...and saw Damian staring back at her, his eyes glossed over and a confused look of terror and bewilderment etched across his face – and then he was gone - his head rolling to the side and his eyes slamming shut against the world.

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