Caught – Chapter 3A

Her turn ons are Sports cars, Bitching, Incest porn and fucking young boys…

“Robert?”

“Uh-What?”

“Well, is that what you think of me now?” She asked, taking a sip of her coffee; the white cup a profound contrast to her red lips. I could see her lip prints on her cup as she set it down. I couldn’t get the picture of those lips around my cock out of my head. I watched her lick her lips. Yes, she did look like a whore; a beautiful, sexy, high dollar whore. She was Hot.

“No, no! I mean you look. . . . . .Great― I stupidly tried to lighten the mood― Like you might be going to some ‘Hot Moms Convention’ or a Hot Librarian contest or somethin’!”

“Robert. . .” She stared. “. . .Is that supposed to be amusing? After what you made me do last night, now you want to make jokes?”

“What I MADE her do.” I thought.

“I just think you look hot Mom, that’s all.” I told her honestly, with equal measures surrender and frustration. “I think you’re really pretty, that’s all, nothing between the lines, no hidden meanings.”

“Is that so?” She asked staring over her glasses.

I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head, “Yeah, that’s so. . .

. . . sorry.”

She had really taken the wind out of my sails.

“Dad leave?” I asked knowing full well that he had.

“He has.” She told me. “Why, something you wanted to talk to him about?” Her tone was cold and snotty but her eyes were filled with concern.

She kinda pissed me off. She had obviously made an effort to look good this morning. Not GOOD……but SEXY. And she did! She looked great! I couldn’t figure her out. I felt like she was just “Sticking it to me”. Was she actually going to stick with this “You made me do it” bullshit? Did she really think I was that stupid? I’m 17 not 5. It was kinda insulting.

I made a mental note to make it a point to find out what had turned my mom into such a bitter person.

“Yeah.” I told her with a little attitude of my own, ready to play her little game.

“Listen Robert…” Her tone had changed somewhat. She sipped her coffee again; she looked deep in thought, like maybe she was looking for just the right angle; the right approach.

“I know what’s going on here; what’s going on in that sick little mind of yours.” She tells me.

“You sure didn’t think it was too sick last night when you were sprawled all over the hood of Dad’s MG.” I thought to myself.

“And what’s that Mom?”

She took a long leisurely sip of her coffee then set the cup down on the table in front of her. Thick on the dramatics. She took off her glasses and laid them on the table next to it. She took a long look at the red lipstick on her cup, ran her delicate finger over it and them rubbed her finger and thumb together. She appeared to be lining up her ducks……Or just stalling for theatrical effect. She took her pinky and dabbed at the corners of her mouth then examined it. I assume looking for any traces of lipstick. She rubbed her lips together slowly to smooth them. The whole thing was very erotic.

I felt myself getting extremely warm. In spite of the fact that everything was going rather poorly in my option, my dick seemed to thing otherwise. It was kinda funny: Where I was barely treading water looking for someplace to put my feet… My dick was ready to jump head first, as-it-were, into the mucky water.

“Robert, I saw the kinds of movies you like to watch.” She shot me a quick look. I guess to catch my reaction. When I didn’t give her one, she went on.

“. . .‘Mothers’ doing things to their ‘Sons’. . .” She glanced over again then back down to her coffee cup; lightly dragging her finger through the lipstick stain again. “. . . ‘Sons . . . fucking there Mothers.” She stated as if she were disgusted; throwing a little more emphasis on the word FUCKING. Still I gave her no reaction.

“ . . .Incest Robert. . . .” She whispered as she looked up at me as if to see if I understood the meaning of the word.

I like Babysitter movies too but didn’t think it was such a good idea to mention it at the moment.

“. . .And I know that you were looking at ME yesterday when your little dick got hard again, NOT the movie.” She tells me with this judgmental look on her face and a hint of pride in her eyes.

What? Did she forget I was there too?

She was right about me though; I was looking at her.

And what’s with the “Little dick?” bullshit? I thought that was kinda harsh. I mean, maybe I couldn’t knock the bottom out of that thing last night but I thought I at least gave the sides a good talking to.

“So now that you’ve got me under a barrow, so-to-speak. . .”

“Under a barrow?” I protested from across the table unable to take anymore.

“That’s right Robert. Now…because of something that. . . . . . something that you wouldn’t understand. . . . . .a brief lapse in judgment that you, yourself facilitated. . .”

“ME!”

“That’s right! Because of that movie, the movie that YOU brought into MY house. . . . . .I’m now held hostage in my own home. . .”

Jesus, was this shit getting’ deep, or what?

“I know full well what incest could do to this family. . . . . . I had no choice last night but to submit to your dirty blackmail. Now I have to be subjected to your depraved, immoral behavior in order to. . . . to. . . . keep this family from imploding.”

I was amazed. Talk about your distorted view. I actually found myself concerned about her mental health and quietly hoped that whatever it was she had…… skipped a generation.

“Really. . . . . .Imploding? That’s the way you see it huh?”

“Certainly. . . So get on with it.”

“With what?” I asked, a bit disgusted myself now.

“With whatever filthy things you’re planning to blackmail me into doing this morning to keep your father from knowing about all this?”

I’d had just about enough. She was obviously going to push this whole thing off on me; like I was a sick fuck that held a gun to her head when she grabbed my dick on the couch. I wanted to ask her, if I was blackmailing her into doing all these depraved, immoral things, then why had she fixed herself up like a whore this morning? Had I made her do that too? But I could feel the pin to that grenade rubbing up against my asshole so I held my tongue.

She looked into my eyes like she was trying to read my thoughts; see if I was falling for this bullshit I guess. I didn’t waver. I stared right back at her and sipped my juice.

It was hard not to stare at her. In-spite of all the bullshit, she was so alluring. And even though she was playing the victim and trying to look all pissed off, she still looked super-hot.

We held each other’s gaze until she finally looked down at her coffee. I considered that a small victory and that gave me an idea.

“I’m not gunna make you do anything.” I answered in an even, smooth tone.

For just a second, she looked surprised then her brow furrowed and her surprise turned to suspicion. She certainly wasn’t expecting that.

“Mom. . .” I drank the last of my juice, gave her one last glare as I stood,

“I got some stuff to do.” I told her, making no attempt to hide the fact that I was annoyed and tired of the bullshit.

I walked quietly back upstairs to my room and waited to see what her next move would be. I thought I was holding a pretty good hand here but it was hard to know what cards Mom had up her sleeve.

I laid there on my bed and thought about how my Mom was acting. I wondered how she “…Knew full well what incest would do to this family.” I wondered if maybe that had something to do with her bitterness.

I thought about what had happened the day before and about how she was trying to push all the blame off on me. Why did there have to be any BLAME to divvy out?

I recalled how Mom had crawled up on Dad’s car and propped her ass up for me. I remembered how she’d pushed back into me and the intense orgasm she’d had. I could feel my dick getting hard.

It was blatantly obvious to me that Mom wanted to do those things and I think she wanted to keep doing them too. I believe she was just trying to justify these unnatural desires by telling herself, as well as me, that it wasn’t right and it wasn’t her fault. I was MAKING her do these things. And I believed she wanted me to MAKE her do more.

I lay there rubbing the bulge in my pants consoling my poor hard-on; trying to explain to it that we’d have to wait. We didn’t have to wait very long before I heard Mom’s light tap on my open bedroom door. I swung my feet over the edge of my bed and sat up.

“Yeah?”

“Am I interrupting?” She asked blatantly from the doorway as her eyes shot down to the bulge in my pants.

“Not really.” I told her as I stood up and deliberately adjusted my boner before walking over to the chair in front of my computer; the only chair in my room. I sat down.

I quickly noticed that another button on Mom’s dress was undone. I could see more of the fleshy ball of each breast now.

Mom walked in. She looked so good. She was a 9½ for sure and would have easily been a perfect ‘10’……A ten point something maybe, had she only smiled.

“Sit down.” I suggested. “What’s up?”

She glanced at the front of my pants again.

She fleetingly looked over at my bed then shot me a dirty look after realizing there was nowhere else to sit.

I smiled, hoping the gesture would show her that I knew what was going on. She walked over to the bed slowly, gracefully. She was so attractive and extremely desirable; a sexy but manipulating woman with a side order of schizophrenia.

The open “V” of her dress moved freely as she walked; the material barely hiding her nipples; allowing me the fleeting glimpse of each dark areola as she walked. Without a doubt she’d seen me looking. I’m sure she knew I would be. I made no attempt to hide it. She sat down, her feet together and her knees touching one another. Her hands were properly placed in her lap. Aside from the tops of her well formed tits showing…she was the LADY.

“Listen Bobby. . .” {I noticed I was ‘Bobby’ again} “. . . I need to know what you’re planning on telling your father and what I need to do to prevent it.”

{Boy, she wasn’t too obvious}

“You don’t have to do anything.” I told her trying hard not to smile.

“Bobby?”

“What?”