Bitched Out by a Bitchmaker II The Fuck Puppet
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It is every man's dream to meet an uninhibited, gorgeously attractive woman who is so hot you need gloves to handle her, a woman that would do anything to satisfy her man from simple sex to getting screwed by every male in Wembley stadium on cup final day. Very few manage to meet this dream woman, but I did, I was sixteen and she was thirty-six, she was everything a man could wish for, gorgeous beyond belief with a body to die for and a face that made the infamous Helen of Troy seem like an ugly old hag, bright, witty, intelligent with a great sense of humour and so randy that you needed to take vitamins every hour on the hour just to keep up with her. This woman took my virginity and went on to make my life absolute bliss, there were two very minor drawbacks in all this, first, she was blind, but this didn't really matter at all and second, she was my mother.
It all started when my father decided to bugger off to pastures new, I'd just turned sixteen and all my life I had thought that my parents were happy together, mum had been blind when dad had married her so I knew that this wasn't the reason for his departure. I also knew that my parents had a good and plentiful sex life, unlike most kids I was aware of sex from an early age, I had to be, I kept tripping over them having it away in some of the oddest places you could think of, so I didn't even think of that being the problem. Of course being aware of sex at an early age also meant that I grew interested in girls earlier than most as well, but my luck in this respect was definitely all bad, mind you I never lost an opportunity to watch my mother padding around the house in the nude and some of the clothes she wore left little if not nothing to the imagination. Of course one side effect of ogling my mother was a permanent erection and I very quickly puzzled out wanking, I don't think a day went by when I didn't send up a prayer of thanks that my mother couldn't see the boners I got from watching her. Unable to figure out why dad had left I asked my mother, she smiled sadly before answering.
"It's all my fault," mum sighed, "your father finally got fed up of my demands and, well, other things."
"Demands?" I mused "Other things? What do you mean mum?"
"He called me a nymphomaniac," mum grinned "the other things were mainly me flaunting my body, or so he said anyway, but I can't help wanting to feel sexy."
The penny dropped and I quickly reviewed the past few years in my mind, to me there seemed nothing out of the ordinary about them. As far as sex was concerned mum had enjoyed a daily portion, hell I had wanked more times a day than that, I couldn't see what the problem was. As for 'flaunting' herself my mother dressed to please herself not anyone else, well not unless it was in play. Had she been able to see the effect she had on the men she came in contact with I think mum might have really flaunted herself, but then I liked seeing my mother in the barest minimum so I would be the last to complain. It struck me as odd that dad could walk out just because of my mother's sexiness especially after all the years they'd been married, as far back as I could remember my mother had been the same, so what had changed.
"Don't worry about it Mark," mum smiled "I've been sort of expecting it for a long time, something went out of our marriage years ago."
I was surprised that I had never noticed a thing out of the ordinary, but then again it was possible that the something my mother was referring to was only obvious under certain 'intimate' circumstances, so I wouldn't have noticed. At least my mother wasn't crying her eyes out, but I could see that she felt sad about dad's leaving and I did what I could to try and keep her cheerful. What came as no surprise was that I was not upset in the least by my father's departure, he and I had never been close.
At times I had felt that he almost resented me being around; so all my time had been spent with my mother, I could never talk to my father about anything, but I talked to my mother about everything. No I was not going to miss him. Then I suddenly realised that there was one thing that I would miss, my father's money, without his wages coming in things would be getting pretty tight around here. In fact I would probably have to leave school and get a job just to keep a roof over our heads. Which raised another point, the house, would dad want us to move out? Frowning I tried to figure out what to do, not that I could see many options open to us.
"I said not to worry Mark," mum said "things will work out just fine."
Although blind my mother had this uncanny knack of sensing the feelings of those around her. Though I admired her optimism there were a few realities that she had to know and I quietly put my thoughts into words. When I finally wound down my mother laughed, it was not at all what I had been expecting and I was more than a little puzzled by her reaction.
"First we won't have to move," mum laughed "this house is mine, I had it before I ever met your father, how do you think I get around it so well? Second, we won't have to worry about money, your father's wages never went towards the upkeep of the house or anything else for that matter, it was his pocket money if you like."
Though she didn't enlighten me as to where the money we lived on came from I breathed a sigh of relief at her reply. Mum laughed then reached out to put her hand on my shoulder.
"Now," she said brightly "what shall we do next? I know, let's go and get a book from the library."
My mother could read Braille without any trouble, but she also liked to have me read to her and I liked doing it. It had been a few weeks since we had returned her last book and I gave my agreement to her idea immediately. It was a warm and sunny Saturday afternoon so neither of us wore a coat, it was very pleasant walking along with my mother holding my arm as I guided her to the library. Mum could have had a guide dog only dad had been allergic to animals, or so he had claimed, I didn't mind acting the part though.
"I think I'll apply for a guide dog." mum said as though reading my mind.
A few minutes later we reached the library, inside I led my mother to the fiction section, looking at the shelves I wondered what my mother was in the mood for.
"What do you fancy then mum?" I asked "Murder mystery, romance, thriller or historical?"
"A nice juicy murder mystery sounds good." she grinned.
Looking at the murder mystery books I ran through the titles for my mother, I'd gone through about twenty titles when mum suddenly had me stop.
"That last one." she said.
"What, See It Again Sam?" I replied reaching for the book.
"That's the one." she grinned.
I read the precise to her and she grinned, Sam was a blind woman involved in a murder, it appealed to my mother so we headed for the desk to book it out. Outside once again with the book stuffed in mum's handbag I set our path towards home, we walked slowly, enjoying the sunshine and the warmth it provided. I was surprised when my mother started to hum quietly. Glancing at her I smiled, she looked happy and carefree, her long black hair hung loose down her back and I wondered what she did with her hair when she was having sex. It reached right down to her bum and I imagined that it would tickle if she left it loose.
"You're quiet all of a sudden." mum grinned, "We must be following a nubile young lady."
"Wrong," I laughed, "I was just thinking."
"Care to share your thoughts?" she asked brightly.
"Nope." I responded as we reached home.
Mum laughed as we went indoors, she headed straight for the kitchen and put the kettle on while I took a quick pee, by the time I joined her in the kitchen the kettle was just coming to the boil. Watching my mother make coffee was always fascinating to me, I tried to do it with my eyes closed once and nearly scalded myself. Grinning I waited for her to finish making the coffee then stepped forward to carry the cups into the living room. Sitting side by side on the couch I took the book from my mother, opened it and started reading out loud, it wasn't a bad yarn and I was getting quite into the plot when things went pornographic. I couldn't believe what I was reading, so engrossed had I become that I hadn't realised that I was no longer reading aloud.
"Come on Mark," mum said "don't skip the juicy bits."
Flicking back to where I'd gone gob-smacked I started to read aloud again. Mum grinned as I read out the graphic details of the hero and the blind female having sex. About the only detail missing from the section was the diameter of the guys cock; they'd merrily given the reader his length.
"Now that was an interesting interlude." mum laughed as the plot returned to the murder.
"I wonder if anyone in the library realises how hot this book is." I replied with a grin.
"Well I'm not telling them." mum laughed gaily "I might want to borrow the book again. You know I feel quite turned on by that, hurry on let's get to the next sexy bit."
Shaking my head and smiling I started reading once more. My mother didn't have long to wait for the next 'sexy' bit because the plot seemed to go out of the window in favour of gratuitous sex, not that we minded. We both got so engrossed with the book that I kept on reading until it was finished, towards the end I had been straining a little to read the words and my stomach was making some funny noises. Closing the book I looked up and wondered why it was so dark, a quick glance at the clock told me why, it was well after eight in the evening.
"Wow," mum smiled "that was some book, we must read it again before we take it back."
"The whole thing or just the naughty bits?" I asked cheekily.
"The whole thing you cheeky bugger." she laughed "By the way, what time is it?"
When I told her mum laughed and stood up, putting the book on the coffee table I got to my feet and took our empty coffee cups out to the kitchen, mum stood by the work-surface and sighed.
"I really don't fancy cooking," she declared "be a dear and phone that Chinese delivery place, order a meal for two."
Using the kitchen phone I called the Chinkies and placed the order while mum took a bottle of wine from the fridge and opened it. I smiled at the size of the bottle, a full litre and a half, usually three of us drank that amount and usually we all got half cut.
"It'll be here in about half an hour." I told my mother as I hung up the phone.
"Good." she grinned "Think you can manage half a bottle of wine?"
"I'll give it a go." I grinned, "What size glasses do you want?"
"Sod glasses," she laughed, "we'll use tumblers."
She poured two tumblers of wine and held one out to me; I took a sip and sighed. Raising an eyebrow as she lowered her glass my mother turned in my direction.
"That was a big sigh," she commented "anything wrong?"
"No," I replied, "just thinking is all."
"That's twice in one day," she laughed "you'll be getting a headache. Want to tell your old ma about it?"
"It's nothing mum," I grinned, "anyway, how can I tell old ma, she's not here."
"Me you idiot." mum laughed loudly.
"Oh, but you aren't old." I laughed.
"Ooh I like you." she crooned then became serious "Something's bothering you Mark, what is it? Still worrying about your father leaving?"
"Not at all," I sighed "it's just...well, I was just wondering...I was wondering why I never seem to get anywhere with girls."
It had been the racy parts of the book that had brought my mind onto the subject of girls, the character in the book had made it all seem so easy yet real life was a damned sight less co-operative.
"Ah," mum nodded sagely and smiling "girl trouble."
"Lack of girl trouble." I stated "Its not that I haven't tried."
"Maybe you've been trying too hard," mum said seriously "you'll get your chance sooner or later, though I know you want it to be sooner."
"A lot sooner." I laughed "Like sometime in my lifetime. I..."
The doorbell ringing interrupted me; it was our meal. Paying the delivery boy I took the food into the kitchen and helped my mother to dish up, then sat down with her at the kitchen table to polish off the fare. By the time we had bloated ourselves the wine was half gone. I did the washing up and mum poured us both some more wine, carrying the full glasses through to the living room I deposited them on the coffee table then went and closed the curtains and turned on the light. My mother had brought the wine bottle in with her and it was sitting on the coffee table as I joined her on the couch. For a while we sat and drank in silence, I knew that there was nothing worth turning the telly on for and it seemed like too much effort to get up and put a tape or CD on.
"I know," mum laughed as she leant forward to put her empty tumbler on the table "let's get smashed."
"Sounds like fun," I grinned refilling her glass and putting it in her hand "I'd better get another bottle of wine out though, this one has just about had it."
"Blow the wine," mum grinned, "let's have something stronger."
"Vodka or gin?" I asked.
"Tonight is a vodka night." mum declared "There's a bottle of real rough Polish stuff at the back of the drinks cabinet this seems like the ideal time to drink it."
I had to dig a little, but eventually I found the bottle of vodka mum had been on about, when I read the label I grinned. The stuff was a hundred and ten proof! On my way back to the couch I put a CD on, something soft, slow and smoochy, it was the first one that came to hand and as sweet music filled the room I settled down on the couch again and opened the vodka. Mum's wine was gone and she held out her tumbler for me to fill it, pouring her half a tumbler of the spirit I drained my own wine and poured myself some of the stuff. When I took a sip from my glass I felt fire burning down my throat, God was that stuff rough.
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