(This story is posted on the Literotica website. Do not repost anywhere else without the author's consent. For fans of my stories, they know what kinds of things to expect. This story deals with similar themes as the stories by wannabeboytoy, seducedHylas, and Dark Betrayal, namely cheating, betrayal, and heartbreak. If stuff like that isn't your cup of tea, then you probably shouldn't bother reading it.

A few warnings before going forward. This story is a little different than my others, taking a different approach than I usually do, though at the end of the day, it veers more towards the type of story you have all come to know and expect from me. But, all the same general themes are present, with all my typical hallmarks. But this is a teasing story, and in my opinion, that type of story needs a slow build. So this complete story is quite long, practically novel-length, so keep that in mind. This story will be released in smaller chunks to make it more manageable.

This story is split in 8 parts of varying lengths. Not all of them will have sex, but some will, but don't worry, the high-level of sexual tension will be consistent throughout. Some parts of this story have action, and some have that dreaded back-story and character building. So, if you just want to get to the sex scenes, you might have to skip around a bit. But, I think the full story is the best way to consume this.

On top of all the other themes I stated before, this is an incest-themed story, if that's not already clear. This is a mother-son series featuring a big-titted, sexy mother and a studly, big-dicked son. If that is not your favorite flavor of mother-son story, by all means walk away. I just want to state again I do not condone any of the actions within this story in real life. This is just a story. Enjoy.)

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Chapter 8: Mom and Dad

(Tanya)

I closed my eyes, maintained my focus and controlled my breathing. I let any stray thoughts drift away, focusing on the task at hand. I exhaled coolly, letting the air blow out through my slightly parted, smooth lips.

I sat in the lotus position in the exercise room, my ass planted on a yoga mat. I had done yoga for a few years now, and I had gotten pretty good. I started out taking yoga classes at the gym, but I got tired of having to work off of others' schedules, so once I got good enough, I started doing it at home, on my own time. And someone had to put the exercise room to good use. Now that Tom was out of the house, I didn't want all this equipment to go to waste.

Exercise and body fitness were my favorite pastimes. Some women liked to shop, some liked to tan, some like to knit or sew, some liked to read. I liked to stay fit. I mean, sure, I liked most of those other things too. Like, what woman doesn't love shopping? But exercise was my absolute favorite thing to do.

Well, my second favorite thing, maybe...

Working out, or doing yoga, it kept me focused. It helped me keep my thoughts in order, my impulses under control. You see, I had a bit of a problem with impulse control. And I knew what kind of trouble I could get into if I didn't control myself.

I extended my right leg out, stretching it out before bending forward, placing my forehead against my knee. As I felt the burn in my stretched back, I felt the bottom of my stretchy red exercise top pull up my back, and the hem of my black stretchy exercise pants pull down. I held my bare foot with my hands and held this pose.

I used to be controlled by my impulses. But looking back at how my youth went, I think it's hard for anyone to really blame me.

For the longest time, I didn't realize I was considered beautiful. Honest. It might come across a bit ditzy or fake to say that, but it's the truth. My parents and other people said that they knew I'd be trouble from a young age. At first, I didn't know what they meant by that, but looking back, those people had no idea what I was capable of doing.

I was a pretty normal child. I was a nice, sweet young girl, a good student and friendly to all. But those innocent feelings of youth transformed once I hit puberty.

I felt like I got hit harder than anyone I knew by that period of growth in my life. My body went into overdrive seemingly overnight as I was bombarded by hormones. Suddenly, I was a foot and a half taller and I was wearing a DD bra. My hormones were out of control. I remember looking around at my classmates and wondering why they weren't being driven as insane as I was. I could barely control myself. I became OBSESSED with boys, and my body craved constant satisfaction just so I could think straight. At first, that attention came from myself, obviously, and I paid a lot of attention to myself. I had this constant thirst that needed to be slaked, and I did the best I could to slake it. And it's not like that desire ever went away. I still feel as overcharged now as a woman in her 40's as I did in my teenage years. I just got a lot better at hiding it.

My parents were relatively religious and conservative, so at first I felt ashamed at how overwhelming my sexual needs were. The way I felt was very much contrary to the things I was raised to believe in. I tried my best to control those urges, but that was like fighting a tidal wave. These desires weren't going to be stopped. They simply needed to be dealt with.

I rolled over smoothly onto my belly before leaning back into the upward facing dog pose. The weight of my large breasts hung down in front of me, forcing me to work harder. My massive breasts stretched my top, testing its tensile strength.

It took a while for me to get used to all the attention I began to receive once my body filled out, to realize that these boys liked me as more than a friend. I was very naïve at the time, clearly, and it took a long time for me to accept the fact that all men reacted that way around me. And I recently confirmed that this was absolutely true. ALL men react that way around me.

I was still pretty naïve at the time, like I said, so any jealously girls felt towards me at the time was disarmed by my friendly, warm personality. I didn't know any better. Despite my body, I was still very innocent. I didn't realize my body had inadvertently placed me into the very adult game of sexual competition. I was still friendly and likeable, and this, combined with the fact that boys were flocking around me, had a startling effect. Girls came to me, wanting to learn my trade secrets. I didn't have any secret at the time, but that didn't dissuade them. It reached the point where even girls began to flock around me, wanting to be my friend, and be on the receiving end of the attention I got. I became popular without even trying.

It took me awhile to realize I was different. Boys would keep telling I was hotter than any of the other girls my age. While barely trying, I became well connected with the elite cliques and social circles of girls in school, and I always went to the best parties. It took me a while realize that none of the other girls were having the same experience I was. It took a while for me to see the way people would treat me, how they would do anything I wanted to gain my approval. Boys would preen and pose for me, and girls would include me in any juicy gossip. People would get nervous around me, even adults.

It took me awhile to realize the power I had.

I got on my hands and feet and arched my back, assuming the downward facing dog position, my breasts weighing me down again. I exhaled evenly as beads of sweat dripped down my forehead

The knowledge of the power I had went to my head. Not that I became a huge, cocky bitch or anything like that. No, I was still typically friendly and positive, but I began to realize I could do whatever I wanted and get whatever I wanted. I could get away with just about anything. I had power. I was superior. At first, I never really took advantage of this fact, even though there were times where I had to suppress my darker urges. Like, when there was a boy that I wanted that was interested in someone else, and I just wanted to scream out that I was way hotter than that other girl. Like, just look at my body! I was able to suppress those flashes of arrogance, but they had a way of bleeding out anyway. I liked seeing the boys play for my attention. I liked seeing the other girls get so desperate for my approval.

I liked to make people dance for me.

I tested my limits. Like I said, I was never cruel or callous. But I liked seeing how far boys would go for me. I liked to see them want to spend money on me, make them break their bank account. I liked seeing them try to be cool and smooth.

And I looked to push boy's limits in the bedroom.

I was the type of girl who was good at everything she did. I used to dance ballet, but that stopped when my breasts came in. I used to play the violin and I easily made first chair. And that natural talent extended to the bedroom.

I got very, very good at sex very, very quickly. My naïve nature and innocence began to fall by the wayside once I lost my virginity. My growing popularity allowed me to handpick the boy I had lost my virginity to, an older boy, a senior at the school. Even in my first, fumbling attempts, I held up my end of the bargain. My natural urges took over and helped me perform until my desires were quenched. And I thought that was how it was supposed to go. Fuck till we pass out, fuck till we're completely spent. But, as I soon realized, that was not the case. It was more along the lines of 'fuck till the guy is done and leaves me needing more'. Just as I was working up to my stride, these guys were all finished. At first, I thought it was due to my advanced experience and talents at sex. But each and every time it ended the same. Me, desperate for more, with the guy wiped out beneath me. They would beg me to slow down and take my time. Some guys wanted to just 'make love.' But honestly, I just wanted to fuck. I wanted it nice and hard. Outside of the bedroom, I was still nice and friendly and sweet. In the bedroom... I went a little crazy.

Some of the more jealous girls called me a slut. But I really wasn't a slut. Well, maybe I was a bit of a slut. I was more than likely the most experienced girl in my graduating class. By the time most girls were beginners, I was already an expert. I knew how to flirt. I knew how to read the signs. I knew how to seduce. I had my fair share of boyfriends who I was happy to put out for. But I didn't just put out for any guy. I mean, I dated all shapes and sizes of guys if they interested me, but none of these guys were never really anything beyond a brief fling. Some guys interested me cause I thought they had potential in the bedroom. Some were cause I simply liked them as a person. But, all these relationships fizzled. I could not get over not being able to find a guy able to keep up with me. I needed more. I needed to find my match.

I got used to hearing the embarrassing apologies from guys. They said I was too hot. Too good at sex. They couldn't help but lose control in a flash. It happened every time with every guy. I began to realize this was the curse of my beauty. And the most disheartening thing was I had chosen from what I thought was the best of the best. Guys were so willing to do anything for me that I literally had my pick of the litter. And still, I would fuck circles around these guys. I got used to being sweet and understanding with these guys when they let me down, but hiding my disappointment became harder and harder. I stopped being so nice and sweet.

I just wanted one guy to take me and fuck the mother-fucking shit out of me! Was that too much to ask? Behind the bravado and posturing, all these guys couldn't match up when it counted. My needs were overflowing, and I needed relief.

My tastes became a bit harsher, more rough and depraved. I became more impatient with my high school lovers, demanding more, until it finally reached the point where I had to swear off high school guys altogether. Even the best of the best, the cocky jocks with their big, throbbing dicks, even they weren't enough. I needed more. By the time I graduated high school, the thought of a high school guy keeping up with me was laughable. My needs were as demanding as ever, my breasts just did not stop growing, and my body had filled out in every way. When I turned 18, I was no longer a girl. I was all woman. And I realized I was too much woman for any mere high school guy.

I stood up and got in the warrior pose, my breathing controlled, my thoughts focused, a bead of sweat dripping down my cleavage.

I went nuts at college. I mean, like, legit nuts. College guys were SUCH a better match for me than the boys at high school. But even saying that, they could not keep up. Sure, they hung in there a lot longer, but by the end of the action with a college guy, I was still aching for more. It was still the same story as in high school. Them, begging me to slow down, to not be so rough, so demanding. They wanted me to 'take it easy' on them. I refused to go easy. I craved more, but my search proved elusive.

I got DP'd by a pair of frat guys a month into college, and even then, by the end, they were the ones who could barely stand, and I was the one screaming at them to man up and fuck me till I screamed. But they were too worn out to even try. These guys, hot guys who no doubt had dozens of easy college girls in their beds, dozens of girls to practice on, even those guys weren't ready for me. If they weren't enough for me, who was?

I did everything. I fucked frat guys, freshmen, a professor, I even fucked my roommate's dad. I experienced a little of everything, vainly in search of the one guy who could meet my needs. There had to be one person out there for me, my perfect match. I just had to find him.

My needs got more demanding. I craved it in every hole, as hard as possible. I wanted to be treated like the slut I was. I wanted a guy to make me drunk with orgasms. I wanted a guy to make me spasm, to make me lose control. I wanted a guy to make me squirt my girl cum all over the place. I wanted a guy to be able to dig in, man up, and really fuck me!

This search made me into a different person. I used to be a friendly, positive, warm young woman. That girl was gone. I was becoming an arrogant, dismissive, haughty, demanding slut. I discounted others just so I could have my own pleasure. I cast aside good friends just to indulge my obsession with men. I was happy to fuck a guy with a girlfriend, or a wife. I had no limits. I didn't care who I hurt. I was demolishing people everywhere I went. Besides that, I was partying way too hard, drinking way too much, and even dabbling in drugs once or twice. I was travelling down a very dangerous road. My tastes were getting nastier, my demands were increasing, my self-control slipping away, and my impatience was overflowing. Something had to give.

Then I got pregnant.

Jay was a cute guy I had a few classes with. He was fit and firm and cute, but I wasn't looking for that by the point I met him. I wanted to get reamed, and while Jay was a catch by most girls' standards, he was never anything but a friend to me.

I ran into him at a party, and I was craving some action. There were no other interesting guys there, and I knew Jay was smitten with me, so I dragged him back to my place. And he was good. I mean, he didn't keep up with me, obviously, but he was fine, just... not enough for me. And I was so overcharged that he at least granted me temporary relief. It was just a one-night fling. I knew that, and so did he.

Then he knocked me up.

The thing was, he wore protection. Jay was wearing a condom when it happened, but I guess it split apart during the action. Part of me wondered if he knew the condom had broken, and maybe he just got lost in the moment, or if it truly was an accident. But the damage was done. I was preggers, and it was the sign I needed.

Something had to change. Getting pregnant made me wonder for my future. I had always been told I would be a star my whole life. I came to school for drama, so I could learn to be an actress. All the directors and professors there affirmed the feeling that I had a big future ahead of me. I also modeled, and they told me I had a bright future there too, though I suspected they were hoping I would do a very specific type of modeling. But when the drama teachers and the modeling agency found out I was knocked up, I suddenly became a lot less interesting to them. I had nowhere else to go but go forward with this pregnancy. That became my future.

Jay was a good man. Very sweet and good hearted. He had a bit of bravado to him, but I kinda liked that in a guy. He clearly had a future, his heart was in the right place and he had a good head on his shoulders. He was totally there for me when I told him I was pregnant and he was excited when he said we would be in this together. Jay was everything a girl could ask for, but I had to convince myself he was right for me. I didn't have that raw animal attraction for him that I had for other guys. He was a genuine, good-hearted guy, but I tended to prefer the bad boys. But even the bad boys had led me to disappointment, cause even though the sex was great, it became clear that they were bad boys for good reason. Maybe I needed to change my tastes. It was that thought that led me to accepting Jay's proposal of marriage, and we were married soon after.

I became a mother to Tom a few months after the wedding, and my life truly did change. Looking at him, knowing this little boy was made from me, was part of me and was my responsibility, I vowed to be a good mother. I vowed more than anything to cast aside my actions of the past and grow up. This was my purpose in life. This was my future.

Becoming a mother was the best thing that could have happened to me. It forced me to evolve. To change. My search for my match, a lover equal to me, was turning me into something I didn't want to be. I didn't want to be the dismissive, arrogant, self-centered narcissist. I didn't want to be so scheming and callous to others. I didn't want to parade my body in front of girls, making it clear to everyone around that they were inadequate to me. I didn't want to make fun of girls to their boyfriends' faces. As hot as all that sounded, as hot as that all was, it had to stop. I was a mother now. Not a slut. I couldn't be the sex-crazed nympho anymore. I had to be better.

Jay provided me a good life so I never had to work. At first, I dreaded this future. Mere months prior, I had dreams of being a big star in Hollywood or on the cover of magazines. Now, my future was being a housewife, and I couldn't help but be disappointed at this prospect. It felt like an incredible letdown after living my whole life as if I was meant to be something special. Maybe it was karma for my bad behavior and being unable to control my needs, letting them run rampant over me and letting them control my actions. The idea of being a doting wife, cleaning the house, being in a fucking book club with the neighborhood wives, it sounded like the ultimate penalty to me.

But maybe it was for the best. I was traveling down a dark road. If I ended up in Hollywood, going the way I was going, that could have ended very badly for me. My urges were running so out of control that I could totally imagine losing myself in the glitz and glamor. Indulging my narcissism and forever searching for the pleasure I sought among Hollywood's best and brightest. Going to the best parties, doing hard drugs, and sucking as many cocks as I could get my hands on. With my lack of discipline, a future of fame and power would have destroyed me. So, as much as I hated the idea, being a housewife probably provided me my best possible future. I needed to change, to learn control. To practice discipline. With that being said, there were moments when I thought about what could have been, and that filled me with burning disappointment. Luckily, I was able to suppress those feelings.
I learned to suppress my sexual urges. I redirected them to healthier pursuits, like fitness or yoga. I devoted myself to being a good mother and let this new phase of my life be my focus. I learned to accept the pretty good sex I got from Jay as what I would be getting for the rest of my life. And honestly, he wasn't bad, more than enough for most girls. But he simply did not match up to me and I knew that from early on. I eventually had to be less demanding of him. Knowing what he was capable of handling, I tailored what I asked of him. It was like when he was in drive, and I had to learn to shift into neutral.

I had to make sacrifices. I had to learn to not wear my husband down, not making him feel inadequate in the bedroom. That was a good wife's job, especially one who was much better at sex than he was. The old me would be happy with taking it twice a night, every night, but I had to learn to be happy with twice a week. I had to stop using my patented blow-job technique, because I could make him cum in 30 seconds flat doing that. I had to be more dainty with him, which was not my preference. I stopped making him fuck my ass. My asshole would drive him wild, but he couldn't deal with how vigorous I would get, my driving ass bruising his torso, making him sore for days. And unfortunately, I had to give up expecting to cum all the time. In the beginning he had enough to take the edge off with small orgasms, but he didn't have enough to make my world shake. Nobody did.

Nowadays, my desire was as strong as it ever was, but his had waned. My body had become so well trained, so finely tuned, that he couldn't get the job done at all anymore. It took someone who really knew my body to make me cum. And, due to that, the only way I came these days was due to my own fingers or with my big, rubber dildo, but that was no substitute for the real thing. I didn't even push him for sex anymore, letting him control our sex schedule, and it was almost a relief to him. When we had sex, it was almost as if I was forcing him to run a marathon and he was relieved not to have to. And that was fine. My fingers and my dildo did a better job than he ever did. And it allowed me to control my own pleasure. It was simply a pressure relief, so I could function as a normal adult and quiet the urges within me. Cause I knew what happened when those urges overwhelmed me.

I was scared of the woman I was becoming before I got pregnant. That is why I didn't even let myself consider going down that road, of acting even remotely like the slut I used to be. Even though I knew I outclassed my hubby in the bedroom, and I'm sure others saw I was out of his league, I never once considered actually cheating on him, of finding someone to slake my hunger. I had to get used to not taking advantage of guys falling over me. Sure, I found myself tempted on a raw animal level, but honestly, it wasn't like I would be getting any better than what I already had. I had to get used to spending my days with perpetually hard nipples, an always throbbing clit, and an ever-ready, wet cunt. I was on another level sex-wise than every guy I had met and I knew that it would require someone on my level to make me cum. Since no one else on my level was around, I was forced to do the job myself.

The biggest advantage of being a housewife was that I had a lot of time on my hands. Jay had no idea how much I masturbated. I'm sure he imagined me going shopping, swimming, or cleaning the house, or meeting up with friends. I was more likely to be in bed with two fingers roughly fingering my cunt while I had a dildo jammed up my ass. I was more likely to be washing the sheets only because I had squirted girl-cum all over them. I can't saw how many times he called home while I was in the act of giving myself the pleasure he should be providing. I had to get my pleasure one way or another. That was not up for debate.

I had to give up on my pursuit of someone who could match me. It was fool's gold. I could go on that journey and maybe I could find someone, but it would likely destroy any semblance of the good person I needed to be. Sure, I was tempted a few times, but I had to make a choice. I could either be a productive member of society or a nasty slut who spends all day, every day, riding cock. And that sounded really fun... like really, really fun, riding a big, thick meaty cock... but, uh, life was about having control over yourself. Your body, your mind, your urges. I had to have self-control or I would lose all control. Sex was my addiction and if I relapsed... I would not be able to conquer it again. And keeping my cool, maintaining control, that required a level of discipline I had never had before.

I didn't want to be even close to the slut I was becoming. And I thought I had done the job. I felt pretty confident that I had expunged any trace the filthy slut I was becoming. I mean, sure, I still flirted and found ways to have some fun, but it was all innocent, really. I was calm. I was focused. I controlled myself completely.

I was a warrior. A samurai. I had conquered my own dark urges. I dismissed those who sought to conquer me, dismissing them deftly. Friends of my husband. Dirty old men. Cocky young guys. Friends of my son. Even the occasional woman. But I would not yield. I would not be conquered. My sight was clear. My virtue was true. My focus... unyielding.

Then my son told me he wanted to fuck me.

When it first happened, I honestly thought it was pretty funny. Tom was typically cool and collected, but with a good smattering of healthy teenage arrogance. Seeing him so nervous, stammering and sweating, stumbling over his words while admitting he wanted my body, it was kind of adorable, to be honest. There was no part of me that even considered giving him what he wanted. I was ready to just shut him down, ruffle his hair, and send him on his way.

He was just a boy! It was really that simple. A young, stammering, nervous young guy was not the man to match up with me. It was cute that he even thought he had a chance. He was an 18-year-old boy. I was a 40-year-old woman. His sexual history could fill a coloring book. Mine could fill an encyclopedia. He could play checkers. I could play chess. At this point in life, a woman like me could fuck circles around a guy like him. When I told him he couldn't handle me, I meant it. I would break him. I broke guys far more capable than he was. Guys more confident than him, older, more experienced, more self-assured, had crumbled at my feet. I tore my son down and made it clear that what he wanted would never happen. And I'm sure it hurt to hear it. I had never seen him react that way. He was so fragile in that moment, so exposed to me. If he got what he was asking for from me, I would demolish him. I was being a good mother, preventing him from going down a path that would lead to his destruction. I had broken so many guys like him before, ruined them for other girls. Asking to have me was the worst thing he could ask for. So, like I said, he didn't have a chance, which is why I dismissed him so easily. Plus, you know, there was the fact that he was my son.

I was ready to walk away from him when I looked back. He looked so crushed. So broken. It was a moment of weakness in me, I guess. A bit of mercy. So, when I posed at him in his doorway, squeezed my tits at him, and purred that he couldn't handle me, I thought I was giving him something to pick him up, to motivate him and prevent him from getting too down. I had shot him down, but at the end, I couldn't resist throwing him a bone. I thought it was over there.

I bent over at the waist, touching my toes, ignoring my throbbing nipples.

When I saw Tom for the first time after his confession, and saw the lust in his eyes, a surge of pleasure went through me. A feeling I hadn't felt in years went through me. A bit of the old me re-emerged. Knowing I had him wrapped around my finger so obviously, knowing I could drive him wild, make him squirm like I had done to so many men before, it sent a jolt of dark pleasure through me. I couldn't stop myself from teasing him a bit more, rubbing salt in his wounds a little bit. I didn't plan to take it beyond that night, honest. I just planned to have a little fun, taste a bit of that raw, nasty side of me I used to revel in, and move on from there.

But that night, I couldn't stop thinking about it.

I mean, it was absolutely filthy. That much was clear. My son had confessed he wanted to fuck me! His own mother! It was incest! My son had practically admitted he wanted to fill his mother with his thick teenage cum! It was so wrong! So incredibly nasty. And yes, I had turned him away easily, deftly, and sure, I was amused by the whole thing. But the thing was, it shouldn't have been that easy. This was a big deal. I was his mother and he was my son. He wanted to bathe in the dark waters of incest, and the most disturbing thing was how little this admission disturbed me.

It should bother me more, shouldn't it? I mean, he was my son. I should be skeeved out, or worried, or upset. I found it funny. What did that say about me? Why didn't it bother me that much? I told myself it was because I had kinda truly seen it all sex-wise, so seeing someone expose a strange fetish was nothing new. But even after seeing this, confronting incest first-hand, something that would bother most mothers and make them drag their sons to counseling, I wasn't bothered by it at all. I laughed at it, and teased my son mercilessly about it. I had fun with it, cause I always had fun teasing men about how much they wanted me. But this was so very different. This was my son. This was incest! Why didn't this level of depravity bother me?

I tried to quell these thoughts. I was thinking like the old me. Thinking about all the nasty things I used to do. And it was the nasty side of me that wondered how far I could push this before it began to bother me? How far was I truly willing to go?

I tried to forget about it the next morning. I was getting dressed, trying to decide what I needed to wear for the day. What would I be doing? I had a few errands to run, but I couldn't stop thinking at how easily I could make Tom squirm, and how tempted I was at the thought of teasing him a bit more. Would I wear comfortable, flattering but appropriate clothing for running errands? Or would I wear something to show off my body? I knew better, I really did, but I had those old thoughts bubbling to the surface, tempting me in a way I hadn't been tempted in years.

Needless to say, by the time Tom came downstairs, he saw me wearing the shortest skirt he had ever seen on me. He saw me in one of my more cleavagey tops, and he saw my thong straps lifted over my hips. I justified it to myself. It was just a little bit of fun. What harm would it be to dress a little slutty?

I hadn't played the game in years, and once I began playing again, I found myself sliding back into my old ways. My animal side took over. My competitive streak returned. I loved the game. The tease. The control I could exert. It didn't matter that it was my son. He was another guy I could exert my power over, and the thrill of doing so was indescribably hot. It was a slippery slope, though, and I had no doubt taken it too far. I probably shouldn't have shown Tom's friends my tits. That really pissed him off. But I tell you what, the anger and jealousy he felt, combined with the lust I saw from all those high-school students when they saw my rack... let's just say, that night... I came harder than I had in years!

I tried to stop myself but the tease was becoming second nature. I would tease on accident, almost. Then he would get mad or he would respond, and I would respond in kind. It was a vicious cycle, and the tension was becoming overwhelming. I knew eventually, he would explode.

I tested his limits and I was impressed by his control. I remember when we talked in the bleachers after football practice. He was on the offensive and I loved seeing the effort he was putting in. I loved forcing men to step up, to change themselves for me. And as he was on the attack, I jutted out my chest at him, practically begging him to just reach out and touch them, even though he knew he couldn't. But he didn't. He showed a bit of control. A bit of discipline. He stepped back and let me walk away. His attraction was far more than him wanting a simple roll in the hay with his mom. His game was a bit more complex. I realized then he didn't just want my body. He wanted to conquer me.

His efforts were cute. Trying to be confident and suave or trying to show off his body and his prowess in the bedroom. I enjoyed the game, and Tom was very cute, but my opinion on him never changed. He still didn't have a chance with me. He tried hard, I will admit, and I was slightly impressed. My favorite move of his was buying those little cameras just to see my naked body. Ha! I soused that one out immediately. Tom wasn't as subtle as he thinks he is or at being secretive. But I didn't see his reaction coming. He was furious that I was always one step ahead at all times, sure, but I didn't realize I had driven him over the edge.

When he came back minutes later, and slammed that glass of cum on the table, I realized Tom had stepped up the game quite a bit. He had taken this to a new level. He was transforming before my eyes, from a young, slightly cocky boy, to an arrogant, driven young man. His smirk as he left that cum in front of me impressed me. He was more capable than I thought.

I couldn't help but confront that glass of cum he left for me. Something had to be done with it. I really meant to just pour it out, honestly. I really did. But to do so, I was forced to lift it, to carry it to the sink. And when I did, I felt its warmth, and its weight, a glass half-full with my son's thick cum, with some slopping over the edge. This was cum that mere minutes prior had been swimming in his balls, swelling his balls because of me. I should be disgusted, but as I reached the sink, a waft from the glass hit me, and that smell, that smell of hot, fresh cum... it brought back lots of memories. A lot of very good memories. My nostrils flared, my mouth watered, my nipples tightened.

I looked down at the glass of cum, tipping it, testing its thickness. Yep, it was the good stuff, nice and thick. Just because this cum belonged to my son didn't mean I wasn't able to appreciate it and its value. It would be a waste to dump all that precious cum out without getting a better smell, right? Before I could reconsider, I brought it to my nose and took a big smell of it, and my knees nearly buckled. Surges of memories flashed through my mind, and like Pavlov's dogs trained to drool at the ring of a bell, I was trained to drool at the scent of hot cum.

I couldn't stop myself. Nothing could have stopped me.

Before I could think twice, I brought my favorite glass to my lips and tipped it back. My son's cum entered my mouth, passing across my lips, hitting my tongue, filling my mouth. I should know better than this. I really should. I was better than this. I was a mature, classy, elegant woman. I was disciplined. I was a warrior.

But, holy fuck, his cum tasted SO FUCKING GOOD! OH MY GOD!

I let his thick cum fill my mouth. I sloshed it everywhere. I coated my tongue with it, spread it across the inside of my cheeks and covered my teeth. Having nowhere else to go, I gulped it down, swallowing my own son's hot cum. My plump lips parted, bands of cum stretched between them, as I exhaled. With glassy eyes, I noted the glass still contained some of that sweet, tasty cum. Like a cum-guzzling whore, I tipped that glass back and sucked down the rest, tasting it, savoring it, gulping it down. I needed more!

I licked the edge of the glass, capturing the cum he left there on my tongue. I used my fingers to wipe the inside of the glass, gathering the cum remaining there on my fingers, before jamming them into my panting mouth, closing my lips around them, getting every fucking bit of cum off of them. That glass was fucking cleaned of every fucking drop of cum before it hit the sink.

This was so wrong! So fucking filthy! This was, without a doubt, the nastiest thing I had ever done. I had swallowed my son's cum. And it was sooooo good! The inside of my mouth was still covered in it. Honestly, I would take a glass of that for every fucking meal.

My body was buzzing. I had not been this turned on since college. If Tom came down at that moment, I would have eagerly gotten on my knees and swallowed the good stuff straight from the source.

I twirled my back, switching the hands I was using to touch my toes as I recalled this memory.

I had enough time to recover. The gravity of what I had done hit me. It was so messed up! I guzzled his cum like a whore. I had not acted that slutty since college, but nothing I had done matched up to this. I had swallowed my own son's sperm! I shouldn't have enjoyed it as much as I did. I shouldn't have enjoyed it at all.

I had just relapsed in a big way. My slutty side had taken over. This was a hiccup. It had to be. I had to stop myself before going way too far, farther than I already had. I had to double my efforts, resist the urge to even play this game with Tom anymore. But it wasn't even Tom defeating me. I was defeating myself. I had to stop myself. I had to regain control.

And I succeeded. I shut down Tom when he finally emerged from his room, and I allowed him no room to maneuver for months. I gave him nothing. I regained my focus, regained my control of this situation, and tried to forget about how good Tom's cum tasted. Tried to forget the way I guzzled it down. And for the most part, I succeeded.

Then he fucked Casey.

I was stunned. Straight up stunned. Tom was a good looking young man and he was not untalented at the game of sex. But out of nowhere, he landed a prized woman in Casey. She as a 10 on most guys' list. A confident, mature woman, like myself, but with a hint of a dirty side, again, like myself. But she was not an easy catch. Despite what I told Tom, while Casey might be a bit slutty, she was not easily seduced. I had seen her shoot down men as deftly as I did. And yet, she fell victim to my son's charms. So, either my son was a lot better than I gave him credit for, or Casey was an easier lay than I ever knew. And I knew Casey. She wasn't easy.

Tom was right about one thing. When I saw her, clearly freshly fucked, obviously fucked stupid, I envied her. Not for having spent an hour or so banging my son. But that look she had, that shaky, exhausted, conquered look, as if she had been well and truly fucked, that is what I wanted. That is what I needed! Not from my son, obviously. He could handle Casey, but Casey wasn't in the same league as me. And she was a fucking 10, so that should give you a hint of my skill.

Even though I was a bit jealous of Casey, I was furious with Tom. He had stepped up his game in a big way. But he had crossed a line. Sure, I crossed a line before, flashing his friends, but he crossed one now, fucking my best friend. I was creating a monster here. Part of me felt guilty at having driven him to this, but part of me wanted to wipe that cocky smirk off his face. He knew he made a good move, and I was speechless.

My relationship with Tom had crossed too many lines. I made sure to keep my distance from that point on, not wanting to encourage him anymore. This game had gone too far and we had both lost control. That was why when the time came for him to leave for school, I wasn't sad or mopey. I was relieved to put an end to this tension.

Tom made one last move, it was desperate, and he knew that. I was doing my best not to encourage him, against what my mind was telling me. But when the time came for him to leave, when he made one last gasp Hail Mary, I easily deferred him, and sent him on his way. It could have been over then. It could have. But, I couldn't help myself. I did it again. I squeezed my tits at him and called out that he couldn't handle me.
Then, he stopped.

He zoomed back and confronted me, calling me out on my bullshit. After all the tension between us, this was bound to happen. I let him get it all out of his system, and he deserved to yell at me a bit. But then, he did something I didn't expect. He said something no guy had said to me before.

He told me no.

He drove away then, claiming he was moving on from me, that I wasn't worth the trouble. I knew it was over. The game was over. Tom ended it, put a stop to it from his end, and it was my responsibility to do the same. I knew that.

But honestly, who was he to end this?

I was the one in control here. I was running this show, driving this car. I was the game master. I was his mother. He's not in charge. No one said no to me. I couldn't get over it. I had never been rejected. I had always had the power. No guy ever turned me away. But here he was, walking away, moving on.

This ate away at me for a while. Had I lost the game we were playing? Tom took the mature approach, walking away before the game took control of him, something I wasn't able to do at that age. And now, my son was gone, and with Jay gone all the time, I couldn't help but realize how boring things were without Tom around. Playing with him was a lot of fun, more fun than I had had in years. I respected Tom's wishes and kept my distance, but part of me couldn't wait to get him back home and maybe pick up where we started. Because there was no way he was totally over me. Not possible.

But then, he brought that girl home. Uh-uh! That cocky little shit comes home and parades her around me. What's her name, Carmen? Ughh. How dare he? He says he doesn't want to play anymore, but I call bullshit. That was a move. You don't parade a girl around an old crush who rejected you without knowing exactly what was really going on. He was still playing, despite claiming otherwise, so proud of his new girl. He wouldn't have been so proud of his cute, older girlfriend if he wasn't trying to rub it in my face. Cocky little shit. If he wants to play rough, we could play rough. And the thing was, she was nothing compared to me. She was a poor man's version of me, a runner-up prize when you can't get the real thing. And then he puts a ring on her finger?! What? He barely knew her! The only explanation was he was trying to prove a point, either to me or to himself. That was the only explanation, because I had her beat in every way.

She was cute, but I was stunning. Her hair was nice, but mine was gorgeous. Her skin was pale, mine was sexy and tan. She had ten or fifteen extra pounds, I was lithe and firm and hot. Her breasts were meager DD's. I had mammoth FF tits. Her ass was decently round, but mine was rounder, juicier, and more heart shaped. Her legs were nice, but mine were longer and firmer. I had my son's girlfriend beat in every way and if he thought otherwise, he was kidding himself.

I did not like her. At all. My son was capable of better that that. The more I thought about her, the uglier I realized she was. I had to play nice and hang out with her. The girl was so transparent in trying to get my approval. Ha! The superior woman does not beg for approval from another. I mean, he knows he's downgrading with her, right? Compared to me, she is straight up ugly. He wanted me, not her. I am not the type of woman who walks away defeated. No, I am a winner. I do not lose to an uggo, an out-of-shape, downer of a girl. A young, stupid, pathetically jealous little girl. She is the loser. I am the conqueror. And I would make him realize that.

I made sure to have her know it. I made it a point to parade myself around her, show off my body, make sure she knew her boyfriend's mother was her superior. Made sure she knew I had bigger tits, a better ass, a prettier face, better hair. I had it all, and she had nothing! Besides that, the girl was such a little downer. She talked shit about everyone, when in fact she was worse than the people she made fun of. She was a dumb little know-it-all who deserved to be treated like the pathetic little cunt she was. Plus, she dressed like a slob, acted all sarcastic and snarky. Uh. Gag me. I hate girls like that, yet my son apparently loves her! Bullshit. Tom loves women like me. He doesn't truly want a dumb little girl like her. He's lying to himself. He wants a real woman. A hot fucking babe, not a sad, chubby little fucking bitch. Tom wanted me, not her. Tom wanted me more than her. I knew that for sure.

I hope he enjoyed the gift I left him. I had discovered that camera the day after chugging his cum, and once I figured out how it worked, I saved it, knowing I had a secret weapon. And it was a weapon. He might act like he was over me, but no way he still thought that after seeing what that camera held.

I thought I was over it too, done with the game, but no way. I was back. My competitive side was back in full bloom. He had unleashed a monster here. Saying 'no' was the worst thing he could have done. My son was in my cross hairs now. I would break him down until I made him beg, until he knew that I owned him completely and I would be the only woman he would ever want. I wanted him to admit I win, that he could never handle me. He fought back against me, now I would crush him. That arrogant prick thinks he can show off his new girl in front of me? That doesn't happen to me! I'm always the girl on the guy's arm.

It didn't matter that he was my son. We were rivals now. Competitors. He wanted to act like an adult. Well, it was time to play adult games. The game of seduction and sex. Tom was my greatest challenge yet. I had created a man more capable than any other I had ever come across. He could play like no other. It was in his blood. I realize now the only way I could find a rival worthy of a challenge was to create him myself. Give birth to him. He was using his genetic talents against the one who granted them to him. But you can't beat the real thing.

I'm tired of beating around the bush in life. Being humble. I'm fucking perfect! I'm any guy's wet dream. And I am fucking dirtier than the nastiest of sluts. I mean, I chugged my son's cum without a second thought! My body was a work of art. A brick shithouse of a body. A perfect, mature slut, with massive, perky FF's. You don't say no to this body.

The Tanya McGee I had spent years creating was now gone. The evil, depraved slut from my younger years was back. Tom wanted to unleash my inner slut... well he was about to get it. He had unleashed the full power of his slut mom. A newly evolved form, the final evolution, combining the slutty ambition of my younger years, with the discipline and control I had learned through my maturity. And when he saw what I was capable of, he would never be able to handle it. No fucking way.

He wanted to play. Let's play. I wouldn't be fazed. Not anymore. He had landed some haymakers on me, but I had some tricks in my book. Nothing was off-limits anymore. Nothing! I was ready to take this as far as I needed to. I planned to break my son. To conquer him like I had conquered so many before. I had underestimated him for too long, but no longer. I was ready to do whatever it took to conquer him. Whatever... it... took.

This wasn't simple jealousy on my part. I wouldn't act in a manner that childish. No, it was more than that. Doing what he did, parading that... girl... in front of me, if you could even call her a girl, that was an act of aggression. And I would respond tenfold. If he thought I took things too far before, wait till he sees what I do this time.

Me and my son were playing chicken. We had had to find out which one of us would blink first. But it would never reach that point, and it was that fact that freed me from any guilt. He was a lot more capable than I ever expected, but I don't think he has the nerve to follow through with it. The guts to do what is necessary. I was a force that he had never encountered before. It was easy for him to talk tough, but when confronted with reality, that was a whole different matter altogether. He had matured greatly and grown more confident and skillful. He had 'moved on.' Bullshit! At the sight of his mother's naked body, all of those façades would crumble away. They would have to. He would revert to that nervous, stammering state I had him in before. And he would see my naked body, that much was certain now. Oh, he would see me naked. My son would see his mother's naked body, a sight no son should be allowed to see. He would see my long, bare legs. My clean, bare cunt. My round, heart shaped, succulent ass. And, of course, my mammoth, juicy tits. My son would see my rock hard nipples in the flesh, and when he did, he would crumble. But that would be in due time. My body gave me my power over him, as it would for any hot bodied mother. And when he did finally see it, he would fall to his knees, unable to control himself, conquered, begging for me, and in that moment, he would know why he could never have me. That he was not man enough to step up and take what could be his. And because of that, he would know that I owned him completely. I had the guts to take this all the way. My son did not. My pussy and my son's cock were now on a collision course. And when, or if, we reached that point was now entirely up to him, and how much he could handle.

And if neither of us pulled away from our collision course, then I'm sure our collision would be a rough one. It would be rough. And hot. And sweaty.

My eyes opened, and I exhaled calmly. My mind was focused. My aim was true.

I knew exactly what I had to do.

************

(Jay)

I was terrified of my wife.

I mean, I still love her, obviously. She had been nothing but a great wife to me and a great mother to our son. But that didn't change the fact that I was completely intimidated by her. I like to think I wear the pants in the relationship, but when she puts her foot down and sets her mind to something, there is no stopping her.

The most intimidating thing about her was her looks. My wife was fucking gorgeous and she still had a body porn stars would envy. Every one of my friends clearly envied me and would kid me about how lucky I was. Every time we would go out, I would watch men eyeing her up with lust, and women eyeing her with envy. I got used to the impressed nods I would get from men, thinking I must have some mighty tricks up my sleeve to land a catch like her. But they had no idea. They had no clue what it was like being married to someone as unbelievably sexy as her.

I just shake my head when I see other guys size her up. It's not that I felt threatened or anything like that. It was just... they had no idea what she was capable of. My wife was talented at most things she put her mind to, but her greatest talents lied in the bedroom. Tanya was insatiable. She just kept going... and going... and going. She didn't stop. I couldn't keep up with her. I mean, at first, it wounded my manly pride not to be able to match up with her, but I quickly realized the talents Tanya displayed were not normal. It was like trying to run a marathon, and she was sprinting the whole way and not getting winded in the least. I couldn't keep up with her, but I soon realized it would be impossible for anyone to keep up with her. She never said or did anything that gave away any indication she was left unsatisfied, but every so often, I could sense the disappointment behind her eyes or in her words of encouragement. We eventually came to an unspoken, tacit agreement that she would take it easy on me and not ask me to keep up with her insatiable lust. This essentially meant we had vigorous sex less often. And honestly, that was a relief.

Tanya's talents were incredible, and her body was indescribable, most men would kill to be in my spot. But they didn't know what she could do. What she needed for relief. There's the saying, 'I'll show you a beautiful woman, and then I'll show you a guy who doesn't want to have sex with her.' That was the case in my book. Not that the sex wasn't good. Far from it. It was too good. But having this goddess in my bed and not being able to satisfy her was a reminder that I was not enough for my wife.

Most men would call me a fool for being on the road so much, leaving that hot piece of ass alone and unsatisfied. But being away freed me from the responsibility of having to have sex with her. But those guys were right. I knew I was tempting fate leaving her alone. A large part of me was terrified that I would come home one day to find her getting railed by some super-stud, giving her the relief she so desperately needed. Luckily, that had never happened. To my knowledge, she had been a totally loyal wife. But that nagging part of me never quite went away.

Then again, she probably deserved to cheat. She probably deserved to get the pleasure she needed to get. I often wondered if being married to this goddess, having a wife so unspeakably sexy, yet not being able to give her what she clearly needed, was a penalty. A punishment. Karmic justice for the sins I committed.

I guess I should back up. When I met Tanya, I was just a run of the mill, normal guy. I was decently attractive, not a super-stud or anything like that. I always resented that type of guy. I was not the type to be obsessed with girls or cars or anything like that. I came from a good family, with a decent level of wealth, but I had to work hard in school to get where I wanted in life. I resented those people that had it easy and didn't have to put in the work I did. People who rode their family's success and never earned success on their own merits. People who took it easy every day of their lives.

I wasn't that type of guy. I had my first job at 16 and worked as often as I could from that point on. I saved up for school and any luxuries I allowed myself to have. I didn't have a nice car or the best stuff, but when the time came and my peers would be struggling with debt, I would be free and clear.

My friends told me I had to loosen up. I was so focused on working hard and saving up and being responsible that I had forgotten to go to parties, have fun, and be a stupid kid. I wasn't unpopular by any means. I had had a few girlfriends, more the smart bookish type than the party girls. I was on the football team and had quite a few friends. It was just that some of the stuff my high school peers were interested in didn't appeal to me in the least. It was only during the graduation of high school, when I saw everyone so happy, sharing stories of the adventures they had, it was only then that I truly felt I had missed out on something. So, when I set off to college, I vowed to loosed up and enjoy the experience, to allow myself to be a dumb and irresponsible college kid.

It was the biggest regret I ever had.

I still remember the first time I saw Tanya. She was a bit of a star at school. Everyone knew who she was, and seeing her on campus felt like an event. I had a class with her, and when I saw her there, I couldn't take my eyes off of her. I saw the same look on other guys' faces, staring in awe of this goddess. It was like, is this girl real? Could someone be this gorgeous?

We dealt with each other a bit in class. As a person, she was great. Nothing but nice and friendly, but it was clear we ran in different social circles. She was a party girl. I was a student. I had loosened up a bit, allowed myself to party, get drunk and have fun, but I was still relatively the same bookish guy. I hadn't really done something too crazy or stupid yet. The opportunity had never come along, and I was too responsible to actively try to do something really reckless.

Then I saw Tanya at a party. I kept my eyes on her, and saw her chatting with multiple guys and it was clear none were to her liking. When she retrieved a drink, I caught her eyes and smiled warmly. She returned the smile and we began to chat.

I slow played my hand. I talked to her knowingly, aware that she was not having the best time. I talked to her in a way none of the other guys did. I talked to her as if I was not looking to have sex with her. Which, you know, I kinda was. I mean, I'm not typically the type for one night stands and stuff like that. I was more looking for a girlfriend than a fling. But when you have Tanya within reach, you throw out your rules. You could be the nicest guy in the world, a guy who donates to charity, helps the underprivileged, and treats women not as objects but as equals. But one glimpse at her and you want to squeeze her huge fucking tits hard and fuck her as hard as you could. Me and Tanya were very different, but I knew I had to give it a shot. It was college. Why not?

And whatever I did worked! Maybe I was her last resort, or maybe I did charm her, but we ended up upstairs, furiously making out. I quickly realized she was willing to go all the way, and I just went with it. I had to control myself and resist losing control, and even then I almost came when I saw her naked body for the first time. But I couldn't slow down. I couldn't blow this opportunity.

Within moments, I was driving myself into her. I was responsible enough to wear a condom, but even with that slightly muffled pleasure the condom was causing, I realized I wouldn't last long. Her pussy was indescribably good. It could probably make a lesser guy cum in five seconds flat. I held out the best I could, but it was a losing battle.

I could tell she was enjoying herself, which filled me with pride that I could pleasure such a goddess. As I drove into her, I sensed she was close to cumming. Looking back, I'm guessing she was really horny that night and probably any decent dick would have gotten the job done. Obviously, we've had sex many times since, and I rarely saw her experience the pleasure she did that night. Sure, I had given her small orgasms quite a few times, but I never really made her scream in pleasure. Tanya was a bit of a screamer in bed, but in our time together, whenever she screamed out, it was if she was trying to talk herself into the pleasure, talk herself into cumming. She never really lost control. She was simulating the sex she wanted, the sex I eventually realized I could never give her. She could talk the talk, but I couldn't walk the walk.

But anyways, back to our first night together, as I drove into her, and I realized she was close to cumming, I drove into her harder. I was getting close too, and it was then that I felt a new sensation. I was feeling her tight, wet pussy against the flesh of my turgid dick. And in that moment, I realized the condom tore. I kept driving into her, not knowing what to do.

These few moments were moments I had looked back to almost every day. Tanya was so close to cumming, as was I. Stopping would ruin the moment. And at that moment, her pussy wasn't letting me think straight. At that moment, I did something stupid. I let myself be irresponsible. It felt like the right decision at the time. I just... kept going. I decided to take my chances and just go with it. To do something stupid. So, I didn't say anything. Tanya was too hot to resist, and too hot to resist the pleasure she could give. My wolfish side taking over, I just kept fucking her, and when the moment came, and her pussy drove me to the edge. I came inside her as she came on me, groaning as she scrunched her eyes in pleasure.

I still remember the panic she felt as she realized what had happened. She questioned me angrily, but I feigned ignorance. She stormed off to the bathroom, and I felt terrible. What was I thinking? I just risked pregnancy for a few moments of pleasure. It was incredibly stupid, especially knowing she would probably think of this as nothing but a one-night stand. A dark part of me paused at the thought of her being pregnant, having us bound together in such a big way, forcing us to be responsible and be together. That way, I could have her body for the rest of my life... NO! What was I thinking? That was messed up. I didn't want to trick a girl into being with me. That is something some prick jock would do. 'Yeah, man, I knew the condom broke, and I just kept fucking the bitch anyway.' Ugh. I hated those guys with a passion. But, after years of resenting that kind of guy and trying not to be that kind of guy, one night with Tanya made me act exactly like that kind of a guy. One night with Tanya and that body undid all the good things I had worked for.
I wanted to be with someone I loved, and not have someone be with me out of obligation. I waited for Tanya to emerge, and I apologized profusely. We eventually separated, and for a while I hoped that would be the end of it. I had done something really dumb and I would never do it again. I had learned my lesson. I hoped I had escaped scot free. That was until Tanya came to me after class a few weeks later and said we needed to talk. I was filled with dread, knowing what I was about to hear.

When she told me she was pregnant, I felt like scum. I had affected three lives, mine, hers, and our soon to be child, just for one moment of selfish pleasure. My dark side had taken over for a few minutes, and that changed my life forever. She wasn't exactly happy about the situation, and neither was I, but I comforted her in these emotional moments. My guilt forced me to be strong for her, to give her something solid in this unstable time. Both of our upbringings made it so neither of us considered any option other than having this child and raising it together. My wolfish thoughts had come true. Me and Tanya were forced to be together.

We started dating soon after, and we started to like each other. Like I said, she was a really cool, great girl. Her personality matched her body. She was really cool and nice, although I could tell she had a bit of an edge at times. I was smitten with her, not only for her body, but for her as a whole. And, she soon liked me to, but honestly, I was never quite sure if her liking of me was one of true affection and attraction or if it was just cause we kind of had to like each other. And really, I'm still not sure. She has been a great wife and mother, but I still have to wonder if she would have married me if the pregnancy wasn't in the picture. I kinda doubt she would have.

I mean, she likes me as a guy, sure, but I don't know if she likes me in a way a woman likes a man she intends to marry. To this day, I am positive my love for her probably outweighs the love she feels for me. She loves me, yeah, but I am pretty sure she isn't exactly head over heels in love with me. We love each other, but with what brought us together, there is a certain hollowness at the center of our relationship. I couldn't look at her without feeling guilt over how I deceived her to be with me. And when she looked at me, I just had to wonder if she knew what I did, or even suspected. Our relationship was based on a lie, and deep down, we both knew it.

And, like a lot of people who probably aren't truly meant to be with each other, we got married after we graduated school. We moved to the suburbs, now living together as man and wife. I'm sure this wasn't how either of us expected our lives to go. I certainly didn't normally pursue girls like her, and knowing her, I was pretty sure I wasn't completely her type either. But we were bound together, and both of us did our best to make the best of things. And then we had Tom.

Tom was the best thing that happened to us. Tom really gave our relationship some true substance. It brought us together in a way marrying each other didn't. We had this little baby to care for, and looking at him erased a lot of the guilt and regret we both felt. We had a child. We made life together. I had never been happier, and looking at my wife, neither had she.

I vowed to be a good father to Tom, and a good husband and provider to Tanya. I had a good mind for business, and I found a good job out of school pretty quickly. I worked hard at a small company, helping build it up and bring in money for my family. At first, I was the good father, being home every night, spending as much time with my son and helping Tanya with anything she needed around the house. I didn't want to make her work. I wanted to at least give her that, after what I had done.

Over time, my company grew and I began to travel more. This meant I was bringing in more money, but it meant more time away from home. As I sold luxury private airplanes to VIP's, I left my wife and son at home.

I know that sounds bad, leaving my wife alone at home, but in a way, it might have been for the best. Our son brought us together, but our relationship still had its flaws. As I said before, sexually, I couldn't keep up with her. While I was by no means a slouch in bed, Tanya was on a different level. This was the punishment for my sin. I was married to a woman who was incredibly sexy and had the greatest body I had ever seen, but every time we were together I almost felt emasculated. I was supposed to be, you know, the man in bed. It wasn't like I could admit my wife could fuck circles around me without breaking a sweat. I knew she was the unique one in the situation and I was the normal one, but it still kinda sucked. She was a goddess married to a mere mortal. And I was reminded of that fact every time we were together. That was my punishment, and I knew deep down I deserved it.

My guilt lessened as me and Tanya settled into a married groove. Life was good, overall. We had been together so long that we both got comfortable with our life and each other. I loved my wife, and I knew she loved me. There was warmth and love between us. But still, every so often, I would catch her eyeing up some guy, or some guy doing the same to her, and I couldn't help but wonder if she would ever cross that line. Would her need overwhelm her? I know her more than anyone, and I know that if she ever did cheat, I would know. I would see it on her. And so I knew she had never cheated on me. But I also knew deep down that she had thought about it.

Even though there might be a divide between me and Tanya in certain ways, I vowed that I would never let there be a divide between me and my son. Tom was a good kid, and as he got older, I needed to be a good father and not let him make the same mistakes I had made. And I quickly realized that would be tough. I could tell at a young age that Tom would be trouble. Tom reminded me of guys I went to school with. He was a handsome young man and he was also extremely charming. Tom had a way with words and I knew that could get him in a lot of trouble. I vowed to instill good values in him. He might not have always enjoyed it, but I knew it was for the best to instill a good work ethic in him, and make sure he knew he couldn't rely on his family's wealth. Obviously, it was not like he was cut off or anything. We had money, and if he needed it, he could get it. But I didn't want to raise a spoiled brat. If he wanted some new gadget or toy, he needed to work for it. It was frustrating for him, I'm sure, but I know it was for the best.

And I think it worked out. Tom had become a good young man. He was slick and charming, but his heart was in the right place. The last thing I wanted was for my son to become one of those arrogant, spoiled jocks I hated in school. I wanted him to have a good head on his shoulders. Sure, he acted out a bit, but college seemed to have calmed him down. He found a great girl, Carmen, and it seemed like the perfect girl for him. Someone to call him out on his bravado, someone to keep him humble, someone that knew how to handle him. And plus, they just seemed on the same page on things. When he left to head back to school and I shook his hand, I had never felt more proud as a father. I had done something right.

However, something was off with Tanya. I knew her well, so I knew something was up. Even though I was gone a lot, I was pretty sure I had my finger on the pulse of what happened at home, and what both Tom and Carmen were feeling. Things had been pretty normal until Tom left for school. Maybe it was empty nest syndrome or something, but Tanya had become short with me lately. Something had her distracted and bothered. At first, I suspected that maybe she was having an affair, but I realized it had something to do with Tom. This was confirmed to me when Tom came back with Carmen. The whole time they were back, Tanya seemed upset. Bothered by something. Mad that Tom seemed to have moved on from needing his folks, maybe, I don't know. Every time I brought it up to her, she shut me down quickly. Something was definitely up with her. I was worried, deep down, that with Tom out of the house, and me gone all the time, the door was more open than ever for her to have an affair, and I knew I had to intercept her before anything happened.

Work was offering me the opportunity to accept a promotion, which would allow me to bring in a lot more money, but would also mean that I would be on the road 300 days a year. The money was tempting, but I knew what I had to do. I had to step back, transition to a more local, steady position, cut out the travel, and be at home with my wife. I had spent years being a good provider. Now, it was time to be a good husband.

If I truly understood my wife the way I thought I did, that was what she was mad about. She needed her husband, now more than ever.

**********

Chapter 9: Game On

(Tom)

"I have a surprise for you." I told Carmen, smiling mischievously as I led her down the hall of our floor.

"Good luck topping your last surprise." Carmen said warmly. As we stepped up to my door, I glanced at her, eager to see her reaction. I pushed open the door to my room, as we both looked into my dark room, lit only by a low light. As she stepped in cautiously, I spoke up.

"Close your eyes." I said, and she complied. I guided her into place. "Now, I know you and Mom got off on the wrong foot, so I thought this might help. So... open your eyes." I said, smiling wolfishly. She opened her eyes, eager to see the surprise, and I saw her smile drop in confusion.

"Surprise!" Mom said. I could understand Carmen's confusion, cause you see, Mom was in my bed, the sheet of my bed the only thing covering her. And it was truly the only thing, cause she was completely naked under that sheet. I could see the way her massive breasts bulged out from under the sheet, stacked on top of each other as she laid on her side, flashing her bedroom eyes at us.

"What's going on?" Carmen asked, worried.

"I was telling Tom how much I fucking hated you. How I thought you were just a sad, pathetic little girl. And just ugly, like really, really ugly... and he agreed. But, he did say he still loved you, and he wanted us to get along. So... I suggested what better way for us to get to know each other than a nice, healthy threesome?"

"What?" Carmen said.

"You heard me." Mom chided. "You, me, and my son are going to have sex. A threesome, like I said. But, I expect it will go the way my other threesomes went. Meaning, he will fuck me, and only me. In all three holes, no doubt. And you will just... have to fit in, whatever way you can. You will aid us in or journey. You will make the sex me and my son have, like, way better. When I'm sucking his dick, I want you fingering me, making me wet and ready. While I ride his cock, you will suck his balls. Or, you will help me drive into him even harder than I already will be. If he can keep his hands off of them, I want your lips on my nipples, sucking them, squeezing my big breasts, admiring their superiority to yours. And when we're both about to cum, I want your ugly fucking face buried in my ass, sucking my asshole, making it nice and wet with your tongue, cause we all now that's where his cock will be going next. Me and him will spend the night cumming like crazy, you won't cum at all, and you'll never fuck that cock of his again. Then, we will truly all be bonded together, won't we? Sounds fair, right. Right? I think so. Don't you?"

"Yes." I replied from behind Carmen.

"Uh, no." Carmen said, looking back at me, wondering if I had gone insane. But as she looked at me, she realized whose side I was on. I was already naked, and I walked past her, my attention on Mom.

"Oh, well, that's too bad, hon. Well then, you can either watch the action, or just fucking leave. I don't give a fuck." Mom said. She turned to look at me, and her lips curled into horny smile. "Now, son. Come home. Come home to your mother."

With that, Mom pulled the sheet off of her, exposing her bare flesh to me. As she did, she spread her legs apart, invitingly. And as this image hit me, as I was confronted with the body of my dreams...

I woke up.

************

Carmen didn't notice a thing. I think she was still basking in the post engagement glow. And I envied how care-free she could be. When we had sex, I could feel her passion for me. And when we went out, either to dinner, the movies or just strolling around, I could feel her love for me. I could see her coming out of her shell, letting her snark fade away in favor of the genuine love she felt for me.

I was jealous of her. I wanted that feeling. I wanted to be that care-free. I wanted to be solely focused on how much I loved this girl. And I still did, obviously. But Carmen didn't see the turmoil I was going through. She didn't sense that sometimes my mind was elsewhere.

I loved Carmen with all my heart, and honestly, as cheesy as it might sound, that love made our sex even better, so I was able to honestly say, despite the many adventures I had had, Carmen gave me the best sex of my life. The problem was, after recent events, I wish I could be totally thinking about her when I fuck her.

Mom had invaded my mind. She had re-entered my dreams again, with a vengeance. Her appearances were less subtle and more direct. This was a different Mom than any I had confronted before in my dreams. Something was different inside her. She spat venom at every turn. Every dream was her providing vicious reminders of how much she hated my fiancée. I wanted to ignore her, but every night, there she was, in my head, filling my brain with intrusive thoughts, bad thoughts of my fiancée.

I tried to drown these thoughts in the happiness I was feeling. I loved Carmen. Every moment I was with her almost made me forget Mom for a little while. Over the past semester, she had done the job, at least until Mom made her last salvo. Now, I was back to where I started.

It was like I had survived a hurricane. My house had been destroyed, but I had survived. So, I rebuilt my house from scratch, better than before, making it stronger, fortifying its defenses. But now, another hurricane was coming. I knew my defenses were stronger this time, and I knew this house wouldn't crumble, but there was no way to know for certain till the hurricane hit.

Mom had her tendrils in me already. I knew that, yet I couldn't resist leaving them in for a little bit. That movie Mom sent, it was... addicting. I watched it every day. I don't know what was more thrilling, the image of Mom gulping down my cum like a thirsty slut or the fact that after everything I had gone through, I had true proof that I hadn't been wrong. I had truly made a dent with her. My mom, this supposedly unbeatable, unflinching sex goddess, was not infallible after all. She had worn me down, made me feel low, like a twisted pervert. She made me doubt myself, but in the end, I had been right. I had a chance with Mom. That dream could happen.

Knowing this shouldn't matter though, right? I had moved on. I found love in the arms of another, something far greater than the one-minded lust I felt for Mom. I had expunged Mom from my system, like an alcoholic going through detox. And I had done it. The cravings were gone. But I had had another taste of that sweet temptation. It was in my pores again. I could only hope I had the strength to resist that addiction again.

Carmen didn't notice the conflict I was going through, and that was probably for the best. I had no idea how I would explain that to her.

Good thing I was away from Mom. Not sucked into her presence, a victim of her pheromones. I was at school, a safe place, outside of her influence. I was surrounded by peers, friends, and my fiancée. Lots of shields between Mom and me. I knew the best thing to do was to keep our distance far and our communications brief. I couldn't let her work her magic and play her games.

But as much as I hated to admit it, a part of Mom was already here. She had already invaded this safe place. And she did that through me. She was in my head now, and in other places. Cause even though I loved Carmen, and we had sex, like, five times a week, Mom made her presence there as well. Cause when I came, after a vigorous bout of sex with my fiancée, I couldn't stop myself from thinking of Mom in those moments. I couldn't help but imagine Mom in Carmen's place, her body exposed to me, her bent over in front of me as I fuck her. And I couldn't stop myself for one simple reason.

Thinking of Mom made me cum harder than I ever had in my fucking life.

***********

I thought I was safe. Mom had made her presence known, but her reach was limited. She had made her move, but I had been caught from behind. Now, I was on alert. I was trying to wean myself from her, cutting down on how many times I watched that recording of her swallowing my cum. Watched her chug it down, watched her throat gulp as she did so, and seeing her reaction, knowing that she loved the gift I had given her.

Uh, anyway, that was that. Things were great with me and Carmen. Stronger than ever. Mom's distraction had made a dent, sure, but I still stood strong. I was stronger than ever. I could handle her. I knew I could. She didn't have a chance.

It had been a few weeks, and I already was well on my way from expunging Mom from my system again. She had made no move to contact me. In her arrogance, I'm sure she wanted me to make the first move. But I would never do that. I would never grovel for her. I would never beg. Not again. She had broken me down before, but now, I was stronger than ever.

And then I returned to my dorm.

I returned to my dorm building in the early afternoon, entering my third week back from break. I walked into the lobby of the dorm, onto to realize there was a commotion there, and a very familiar voice.

"Well, I am very flattered, Erik." the woman's voice said, looking at the tall young black guy standing next to her.

"We're serious." Another guy, a guy I knew a little, named Scotty, said. "You should come. It's off campus, at the frat house. We have music, drinks, beer pong, some other substances, whatever you could want."

"Mmmm, that does sound tempting." The woman said. "It's been a long time since I went to a college party. I wonder if I could keep up with you all."

"I think you could." Erik said. The woman smiled confidently at him.

"I know." she said, self-assured. "You might be surprised what I'm capable of. The things I did in my day would probably make you all blush."

"Try me." Scotty said. She paused.

"Well," she began quietly, about to share a secret. Then, she caught sight of me. "Tom!"

Both of the guys turned to look at me, confused. I looked back at the woman, just as confused. What the fuck was Mom doing here?

I stepped forward slightly as Mom sauntered over. She wore tight, slim jeans, molding to her lower half. She wore a bright blue top, low-cut enough to show off the canyon of cleavage between her breasts, and her top was tight enough to show off their round shape. Her high heels clicked on the tile floor as she walked towards me.

She stepped into me and gave me a tight hug, and I just stood there and took it, not reciprocating. She stepped back and looked at me, smiling wide.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, humorlessly. I didn't want to play anymore. But if she had evil intentions, she didn't show it.

"Well, I got the urge to make a trip up here. You've been pretty quiet lately, and I thought this would be a good chance to come up here and, you know, catch up."

"It's only been, like, two weeks." I said. I looked at her, trying to figure out her angle. She just smiled knowingly.

"C'mon Tom!" she urged girlishly. "It's been half a year and I haven't seen my son's dorm room."
Scotty and Erik's eyes widened as they realized this was my mother. I ignored them and focused on Mom.

"What are you doing?" I asked quietly.

"Let's go up to your room. Talk there." Mom replied, her smile showing no sign of any ulterior motive. Knowing there would be no shaking her, I had no choice but to comply. Plus, I knew Luke would be in our room, so Mom and me wouldn't be alone. Nodding, I led her up into the dorms. She was silent as she followed, and I resisted the urge to look back at her lush frame. We walked towards the end of the hall, where my room was. I saw the door was propped open, and so I led Mom inside.

I saw Luke's eyes jump up as he saw me, then I saw them jump away as he saw Mom.

"Luke, this is my mom. Mom, this is my roommate, Luke." I said. Luke stood up, wiped his hands on his jeans, and held out his hand. Mom smiled, stepped forward, and took his hand in hers.

"Hi." Luke said nervously.

"Hi." Mom breathed out, smiling at him. Luke awkwardly sat back down at his desk, not knowing what to do, and Mom took in her surroundings. Her face hardened somewhat, looking at the room two 19-year-olds shared like any mother would, seeing a mess. She pinched a dirty shirt of mine between her fingers and lifted it from the pile of dirty clothes and scrunched her nose.

"Um, sorry, uh, Mrs. McGee." Luke stammered. "I didn't know Tom was bringing his mom over."

"It's okay. Mom said. "He didn't know either. With two college guys, I'd be more shocked if it was clean." Luke laughed nervously. Mom stepped around the room a bit. She looked over my desk. I watched her fingers trail against the hard wood, before landing on the small spy cam she sent me, spinning it in her fingers, noting the memory card was missing. I saw Mom's lips curl almost imperceptibly.

"Hey, Tom?" I heard from behind me. I turned to see Carmen enter the room, and I smiled. She stopped in her tracks.

"Oh." she said. "Hi, Mrs. M... What are you doing here?"

Mom gave Carmen a pained smile.

"I thought I would stop by and give a, you know, surprise spot check of the place. See how my son was doing." Mom said.

"Oh. Uh, cool." Carmen said. "If you're in town, we should all get a late lunch. I'm starving."

"I was actually going to suggest the same thing. But, I kinda need to talk to Tom in private. We have a few things to sort out." Mom said.

"I would rather she come with." I argued.

"No, Tom, it's okay." Carmen said, eager to not get on Mom's bad side. "I don't want to intrude. I'll just go grab something from the caf'."

Gritting my teeth, I watched Mom condescendingly congratulate Carmen on the engagement and give her a hug. Carmen probably saw it as genuine, cause she didn't know better. But I did, and I knew what Mom was playing at. Carmen said bye and stepped out, leaving me with Mom. Mom turned to face me.

"Well," she began, "let's go."

**************

I drove Mom across town. I stayed silent, and anything Mom said was about normal things, like my roommate or the state of my room or the city. I would respond to this, sure, but I was not about to engage her about the topic I was positive she was here to talk about.

I took Mom to a restaurant me and Carmen had gone to a few times. Mom picked a table outside, and we ate our meal there. Again, Mom said nothing beyond normal, innocent conversation. I knew she was slow-playing her hand, but I was not playing at all.

We wrapped up our meal, and sipped our drinks as Mom covered the bill. The waitress took her money, and finished up with us, and then finally, as she stepped away from us for good, I saw a change come across Mom's face.

The game was on.

"You never told me what you thought of my Christmas gift to you." she said teasingly, sipping from her glass.

"What are you playing at?" I asked, un-amused.

"I don't typically lose control like that. I guess I couldn't resist." Mom said, gulping at her drink. My eyes narrowed at her.

"I told you I was done with this." I told her firmly.

"Then you brought that little bitch home." Mom said, her tone turning cold, shocking me. Mom was typically so laid back. Seeing her tone change so severely was truly jarring.

"Don't talk about her like that." I said angrily. She smiled, amused.

"You said you were done with our little game, then you felt the urge to parade your little girlfriend around me. Looking for my approval, clearly. Face it, Tom. I still own you." Mom said. I was baffled that she took an innocent gesture and twisted it, making it all about her.

"Wha... why? Are you serious, Mom? Why are you doing this? Why now? This was done!" I said, my voice firm but not loud.

"You pissed me off." Mom began. "You brought her home. You paraded her to me like you did Casey. It's no different."

"Yeah, I did do that with Casey, but not Carmen. Guys are supposed to show off their girlfriends to their parents!" I argued.

"Well, our relationship is far from typical." Mom replied. "And you made it a point to bring her in the way you did. A little... surprise for me. You forced her to try to be my friend. You wanted my approval. And you will never get that from me. Especially not with an ugly little cow like her."

BANG!

I slammed my fists into the glass table angrily. Mom jumped slightly.

"Do it again and you're walking home!" I threatened. She smiled that arrogant fucking smile of hers.

"Mmmm, this is... this is exactly why I'm doing this." she began. "I love how much you fucking hate me right now." Mom said breathily. "That passion you feel isn't anger, Tom. It's lust. If you were done with me, you wouldn't be this angry. You'd be truly over it. But you are not. You're not done with me, clearly. And I am not done with you."

"What are you saying?" I asked.

"No one says no to me. No one walks away from me. Nobody." she said, threateningly. "You don't walk away from this..." she said, showcasing her body, pointing her rack at me, "for that." she said, pointing back towards the school. I chewed my lip, stifling my anger barely.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"You say you don't want this, but I think you do. And I will not stop till you admit the truth. That you would rather be with your own MOM than any other girl. And I intend to prove it. I intend to take this as far as it needs to go. As far as I need to go to break you." She said.

"Break me?" I questioned.

"I told you 'you couldn't handle me' from the beginning. I now intend to prove it. I WILL break you like I said I would. I am willing to do whatever it takes. WHATEVER it takes. You saw how far I am willing to go in that video. But never again. I know what you're thinking, I know where you think this is leading to, but it won't get that far. What you saw on your little camera is as close as you will ever get. I know you better than that. I'm your mother. I see your weaknesses, and I know you don't have the nerve. You never did. You talk tough, but when the going got tough, you gave up. I don't give a shit that you 'walked away' from this game. You came back, and I don't care that you brought someone with you. She doesn't matter. I intend to break you down, make you kneel at my feet, make you beg for a pleasure you will never get." Mom stated. I gave her a shocked look.

"You've lost it." I commented. I had never heard my mother like this. I honestly thought she had, possibly, gone insane.

"Oh, no, no, no." Mom said. "You brought this out in me. You started this, Tom. You made me do this. You started this little game. Everything was normal till you confessed you wanted to fuck me. You should have considered the consequences of your actions. Sure, this is me at my most cruel. This a side of me good mothers don't let their sons normally see. Sons see their moms as these beacons of everything that's right and good. But trust me, we have our dark sides too. You think I'M crazy? Look at you! You have all this college pussy walking around, and you're still hung up on your own mom."

"I'm not!" I said, raising my voice, leaning in. "I got over it!"

"Over it?" Mom said. "Ha! Not possible. Hon, you don't know who you're dealing with here." she said confidently. My anger boiled over.

"I know exactly who you are." I began. "A cum-guzzling slut who couldn't resist chugging a glass of her son's sperm!" I said firmly but quietly. Mom's neck twitched slightly.

"A temporary moment of weakness, I'll admit." Mom began. "It won't happen again. It's a shame though," she said, pausing, looking me straight in the eye. "Shame you don't have what it takes. That cum was really fucking good. I would take a steady diet of that and be hungry for more. And that's on you. If you had the guts, if you had the brass fucking balls to do what was necessary, you could have exactly what you want. If you had played your cards right when you made your little confession, you could have had me that night. There were so many times you could have had me, but you never had what it took to close the deal."

"Wait... you're saying you were into this from the start?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Not necessarily." Mom began. "I was as surprised as you were at how much fun I had playing with you." Mom stood up and walked around the table. She put her hands on my shoulders, squeezed lightly, then put her mouth to my ear.

"You've had flashes of brilliance, sure, but if you want to get anywhere with me, you need to step it up. If you're such big, bad stud, then prove it. If you have what it takes, you can take what you want. You don't want a girl like Carmen, especially when you have a shot with me. And you do have a shot, son. If you play your cards right, you could have me any way you want. Any hole, any position, anytime, anywhere."

My eyes widened. Was this true? Mom slid away and returned to her seat.

"I'm willing to do what this takes, Tom. If you think I'm bluffing, call it. Do it! But I know you won't. This only ends one way, Tom. When you admit the truth, that you couldn't handle me, then the game will be done. I will have won. You could end this right here, right now, but you won't. Your pride won't let you." Mom said. I paused, silent in my confusion. She continued. "Don't you see, it's for the best, really? I'm protecting these girls. You should never commit to a girl when you're still hung up on someone else. Still... obsessed. You will break Carmen's heart, Tom, unless you admit the truth. I'm doing the right thing here."

"You know what, I'm not playing your games, Mom. I'm not indulging you. I'm not giving you anything." I stated firmly. I was not gonna even humor her with playing along. I was giving her nothing to twist to her advantage. She smiled.

"I didn't come here expecting to break you this soon. I give you that much credit." Mom stated. "This is only the beginning. The game is on, Tom. Prepare yourself. Get ready to see the full force of what I can do. Get ready to see why I left a body count of men in my wake. Get ready to join the long list of men that couldn't handle me."

I didn't know how to react. Mom had laid the case out for me. She was playing for keeps. She wanted to break me completely. She was willing to whatever it took, even including... sex. A rush filled me at the thought of what she had stated, that after all this time, sex between me and her could actually happen. I could have her. I could do it. No... NO! She was teasing me. She wanted me to beg for it. I begged once before, and I wouldn't do it again. I didn't want to do any of this again. She was playing a one-sided game. She said she wouldn't stop, but I didn't care. It was like I told her, I was through with this shit. I was happy where I was at. I was happy with Carmen.

I pushed my chair back, stood, and began to walk away.

"Go find a cab." I called out to her. "I'll tell Carmen you said hi."

"Congrats on the engagement." she called back.

I abandoned Mom, angry at her, furious for keeping this game going. She sounded insane! My mom had lost it. This game drove her over the edge. Her competitive side had taken over completely. And she had gotten mean as well, saying awful things about her future daughter-in-law. Sure, the thought of having her body sounded incredible and the thought of proving her wrong was even more tempting, but her games were not worth it. My pride did want me to stand up for myself here, but I was just over it. I remembered what Carmen provided, and that was more than enough. I was happy.

Let Mom play her games. Good. Whatever. The only thing I could do was show her how little she affected me. The only sane thing I could do was ignore it. Keep my distance, don't give her anything. She said I could stop her by admitting I couldn't handle her, but I don't buy that. She was obsessed at this point. She would continue playing until she felt like stopping. She would find some trick to convince herself to keep going. I played during our first game, early on in this battle of wills between us. Now, this was her show. I thought over what was to come as I drove. I admittedly got a bit nervous.

I could only hope Mom got bored of this game when she realized I wasn't playing.

I could only hope Mom didn't have anything too crazy in mind.

I could only hope I could resist.

**********

I dreamt about her again that night. Both her and Carmen. And this one was far different than any I had had before. I was standing between two doors, in a hallway with these two doors on the ends, two walls on the sides and nothing else. I looked out the door to my right. Looking through there, what I saw was... beautiful.

I saw Carmen, surrounded by light, beaming. She was dressed in a bright white dress, a far cry from the darker clothing she typically preferred. And she would never be caught dead in a dress if she could help it. She stood there, smiling, her love apparent. Then I saw her in the front yard of a beautiful two-story house, with a white picket fence, swings hanging from a tree, the sun gorgeous in the sky, the sky pink, near dusk. I saw her chasing around a couple of kids, and they were all laughing and happy. I saw her go up to me, a projection of me, an older version of me. She looked at the older me and the older me looked at her. And it was clear the love between us was still there, still as strong as ever.

Carmen looked as beautiful as ever. In her white dress, with the sun shining behind her, she truly looked like an angel. She turned to me, the real me, not the older me, and spoke up.

"This is us." she said. "This is our life. You'd be a fucking idiot to not want this."

I smiled. Sure, she looked like an angel. An angel with a filthy mouth. Just what I wanted.

The door shut in front of me, and I was forced to turn to look at the other door. I knew what I expected to see, but nothing prepared me for what I actually saw. I pushed open the door, and my jaw dropped. Mom was there, as I knew she would be, but this was a Mom I had never seen before. She was barely recognizable. She looked, quite frankly, like the Devil, like the Devil you would see in a movie. Or at least the type of devil you would see in some twisted porno with a high special effects budget. All of her skin was red, bright red. She was standing completely naked in front of me, her red skin looking so smooth and touchable. Her long, bare, naked legs curled together, her firm muscles being shown off.

And although I could see all of her, I just couldn't commit to memory, no matter how hard I tried. The memories just flowed away. So even though I could see her bare cunt, and the tiny line of trimmed black hair leading to it, I couldn't possibly describe it. Even though I could see her massive, smooth, round breasts, and her twisted dark nipples, I couldn't describe in any way how soft and juicy they looked.

I could see her flat belly, shown off proudly, her belly button the only interruption on the smooth flesh. I could see her arms on her hips, waiting for me to take action. From behind her, I could see a tail curled behind her, a devil's forked tail, swaying lazily behind her.

Then I looked at her face. My mother's face, now the face of the Devil, completely red. Her round, plump lips curled in an evil smile. Her tongue slid across her smooth lips like a serpent. Her eyes were more angled and severe, and her pupils glowed with a deep, red evil. Her black hair suited her new appearance, curling past her shoulders down her back. And on top of her head, two little horns emerged from her hair, cementing her new form.

She stood in a tundra of darkness, her toes digging into the broken molten rock under her, bursts of flame providing the only light, casting a glow on her as they shot from the ground near her. The bursting, broiling heat of this hellish world nearly overtook me.

"Tom! You can't resist this much longer! This is what you want. This is where you belong. Join me, son." she called out arrogantly, holding her hand out, beckoning to me.

"No!" I screamed out, and this only caused her to smile.

"Take your time. You'll be here with me soon enough." she said confidently. My eyes widened as two wings emerged from her back. They flapped as she took to the air. She spun in the air and faced away from me, her bare, round ass pointed at me, shown off to me.

"HA HA HA HA HA HA!" Mom cackled, flying away, flying into the darkness, begging me to join her, join her in the darkness and see what I would find.

I woke up, shaken.

The symbolism was clear. Carmen was the angel on my shoulder, the dirty little angel I always wanted. And on the other side was Mom, the devil on the other shoulder, beckoning to me, asking the worst of me. Asking me to join her in a world of lust and sin and evil.

I was shaken by Mom's transformation. At first, the Mom of my dreams was a lustful reflection of the Mom I knew, still maintaining enough realistic details to make her seem like the real thing. But this Mom, this new Mom, was far different. This wasn't the Mom I knew. She had evolved, or devolved, however you wanted to see it.

Mom had become a demon.

And I hoped I had the strength to resist her dark charms.

************

I know Mom had declared war on me, so to speak, but that didn't mean I knew what to expect. For a few days, she left me waiting, waiting for the bomb to drop.

And drop it did.

The first thing was the care package.

Mom was not exactly the lovey-dovey, emotional type. I know she still had that motherly love towards me, and if something bad happened to me, she would throw this game aside and be there at my side. But that side of her hadn't been too apparent lately. Our relationship had been so twisted by the game we had been playing that any motherly veneer she once had was now gone, and in its place, was a twisted, devious, cunning, manipulative, unrelenting seductress. She found this game so enjoyable, so thrilling, that she had lost herself in it.

So, I arrived at my dorm and saw the girl at the front desk flag me down and tell me I got a package in the mail. She handed me a box, a square box, about the size of a shoebox, only a bit wider. It was wrapped in brown paper, like that stuff used for lunch bags. I noted the address, noted that it was from home, in Mom's handwriting, and that fact made me gulp. As I signed off for it, the girl spoke up.

"Maybe a care package?" she postulated.

"Uh, yeah, maybe." I said, forcing a smile.

As I got back to the room, and stared at the box, I wondered if I should open it. I was still recovering from the last gift she sent me. But I knew, deep down, that I just had to know. I would never be able to not know what was inside.

Taking a letter opener, I sliced one of the seams and unwrapped the paper, revealing a cardboard box underneath. Slicing the tape holding the lid of the box shut, I took a deep breath and pulled the box open.
There were a few small containers, but on top was a crisply folded piece of paper. I pulled it open and read it, recognizing Mom's handwriting.

Tom,

I've heard some of the other moms talk about sending these care packages over, so I thought I would do the same. Despite what has happened between us lately, I wanted to let you know I still care. I wanted to send this stuff over, a few memories of home.

Enjoy.

Love, Mom

XOXO

I looked at the contents of the box, confused. I few a few small little containers, and inside them were treats, like cookies and other home cooked sweets. I saw a few boxes of things that were sort of easy, go-to meals for me at home, guilty pleasures, like those little cups of soup, stuff like that. It seemed like an innocent gesture, which had me confused. What was her angle here? What was she trying to accomplish?

I took one of the cookies and stuck it in my mouth, chewing it as I was about to put the box on the floor. It was as I was doing this that I noticed what looked to be some paper on the bottom of the box. Taking all the stuff out, I pulled out what felt like a small stack of glossy photos, like 8 x 10's. Curious, I turned them over.

I should have known better. I really should have.

The least I could say is that they weren't nudes of her. I don't know if I could handle that. But they weren't far from it. It was clear Mom had put her new camera, her Christmas gift from me, to good use. I suppose I should have seen that coming. And looking at these photos, it had become clear Mom had lots of new bikinis I didn't know about.

The first picture was Mom rising from the pool, the water cascading off her chest as her breasts poured out of her orange bikini. Her breasts had never looked bigger, her flesh had never looked smoother, and her cleavage had never looked deeper. She looked at the camera, her lips curled ever so lightly in a Mona Lisa smile, her wet hair dripping water and hanging behind her.

The next photo was a full body shot. Mom, hands on her hips, standing proud for the camera. This was another shot of her in her orange bikini, and damn if she didn't rock it. This honestly could have been in one of those swimsuit issues magazines. She had a sheen of water covering her, and it added a layer of fierce sexuality to her already blatant sexiness. Her eyes were smoldering and her plump lips were pouting. Her massive breasts, and boy, did they look extra massive, were jutting out proudly, barely contained in the thin orange bikini top. The material clung to her round flesh and her rock hard nipples were apparent. Smooth flesh could be seen to the left, right, and under each patch of material, and the sole string connecting the two patches strained under the load her springy breasts exerted. Each thin strap of her top dug into her shoulders.

Her tan looked golden and glorious, and the orange of her bikini really suited her. Her flat belly looked toned and fit and perfect, and her sexy belly button made me gasp. I know I had seen her in a bikini before, but I had put her so far out of mind, I had erased my lust for her for so long, rationalized that she was my mother and lusting for her was wrong, that seeing her again, seeing her so exposed, made my lust for her body seem extra raw and sizzling.

Her bikini bottoms were tinier than I had ever seen her wear before. A thin, tiny patch of orange material covered her cunt, barely covered it, but that sucker covered what it needed to and literally nothing else. From the angle she stood at, I could see the side of her butt, meaning she was probably wearing a thong, or something resembling it.

Her long legs looked firm, golden brown, and long. Even her bare feet added to her appeal, something about how exposed she was while still seeming like she was barely trying.

The next picture, again showed her by the pool, but this one was very different. She was lying on her back on a deck chair, getting some sun. The picture was taken from the side, so that was all I could see of her. But it was clear she was wearing a different bikini, and if I thought the other one was small, this one was microscopic. From the side, it looked like she was almost naked. She was on her back, and her perky tits jutted upward. The only interruption from the expanse of smooth flesh I was seeing were two tiny strings, one down her smooth, round breast, the other at her hip, holding whatever bits of material she wore in place. But I couldn't get a full on view, so I couldn't figure out exactly what kind of bikini she had on.

I flipped to the next picture, the last one, and this one was a far cry from the others, namely that she had clothes on. But this one might have been the sexiest one yet. It was her in the kitchen, wearing a yellow sundress. It was a decent dress, I had seen it on her before, and it was not as slutty as the other pictures. The dress went down to a few inches above her knees, and left the rest of her smooth legs bare. Her arms were naked as well, the two small straps holding the dress running over her shoulders. The dress was not too low-cut, but with her rack, every top highlighted her breasts.

In the picture, she was in the kitchen, and she had an apron on. She was bent over the counter, stirring a mixing bowl. She was turned towards the camera, her mouth in a wide open smile. Her face was very done-up, wearing thick, red lipstick, eye-shadow, mascara, you know, the works. Her hair was done up in a way different than I'd ever seen, in a way I'd almost say was old-fashioned. She looked like a retro mom from the 50's. But, her lush frame and her blatant sex appeal made an incredible contrast with her supposedly conservative attire.

I gulped, looking at these photos. Mom couldn't do an innocent gesture without finding a way to twist it. This was the main reminder of what I could get at home. Not the food or the home cooking. No, the attraction to coming home was Mom. Mom alone. Mom, and her insane body.

I don't know the logistics of how Mom took these pictures. I doubt someone else took them, she must have done them by remote or automatically or something. Whatever, it didn't matter. The damage was done. The photos were in my hand. I only hoped I had the strength to not keep these pictures tucked away and not put them in some drawer.

I shook my head, trying to shake the images I had just seen from my mind. I closed the little container of cookies and pushed them away.

I had just lost my appetite.

***********

My main plan for dealing with Mom was to not deal with her at all. Don't acknowledge her games in any way. Cause if I did, she would get her claws into me. She tried to call me, or contact me to chat online, but I always ignored her, or kept myself busy with Carmen. It wasn't that tough to avoid her tendrils.

But, I did keep up with her in other ways. We were friends on Facebook, so checking my own page forced me to see some updates on what she was up to. And what I saw forced me to act.

The first thing that stunned me was that Mom added a new folder of pictures. I was thankful that they were completely decent, non-sexual pictures, as non-sexual as pictures of her could be, at least. But what shocked me was the location and the context of the pictures.

First of all, these were pictures from here, in town, where I went to school. It had been a few weeks since she had visited, but these pictures were only dated from this past weekend. But what was more shocking was the location of the photos.

She was on a set. Like, a film set or a TV set or something. I saw cameras and boom mikes and stuff you would find on set. I saw her take pictures with people on the set, men and woman, and they looked like a reputable crew. My eyes jumped to the title of the album and the caption under it. The title said, 'Commercial Shoot' followed by the date. The caption read: 'I ran into a casting agent while visiting my son at school. He said I'd be perfect for this part in a commercial. I filmed it this weekend. They said they liked me, and they said they would have more work for me. OMG. So excited. I hadn't thought about acting since college. Thought that ship had sailed.'

In the pictures, the set seemed to be a kitchen, and there seemed to be a part for a dad, a son, and a daughter. I am guessing they were selling some sort of food or something. Mom posed with the other actors, and she stood out. She looked like a star compared to them. Even dressed casually, wearing a cream colored blouse and jeans, she looked stunning.

I was shocked by this revelation. Mom had done some work? Not that she was lazy or anything, but I had never seen Mom do anything but be a mom, so thinking of her having a job was surprising to me. But, she had been in town, and she didn't even try to make a move? That seemed odd to me.

But what I saw next was even more distressing.

There were more pictures of her, this time they were pictures not taken by her. They were also pictures of her in town, and the locations of them were even closer to me. They were in fact on campus, or at least near campus. They were in one of the frat houses, at a party.

I was stunned by this. Stunned. I saw my mom at a frat party. This was insane! I saw her dancing, surrounded by throngs of guys and girls. I saw Mom with drinks in hand, dancing with a bunch of douchebag frat guys. I saw Mom with those guys she had talked to, Erik and Scotty, dancing. I even saw her playing beer pong. This sounded crazy, for sure, but Mom did not look out of place. No one seemed to mind this woman twice their age was partying with them. No one seemed to find it strange. I can see why though. Mom was dressed to kill. A clingy black dress hugged her hot body, showing off her form for all these college kids to drool over.

Some of these pictures, the pictures of her dancing, she looked awful close to these guys. Her dancing did not look appropriate for a woman her age, and some of these idiot jocks were taking liberties, putting their hands on her back, or her legs, or creeping dangerously close to her ass. Some of the pictures were showing her dancing, her skirt flaring up, almost revealing what she was wearing under her dress.

I was incensed. Mom, on campus, intruding into my life. My safety zone, away from her. Hanging out, going to parties on campus, with students from my school. My peers. I knew people in these photos! People I knew, people my age, and Mom was hanging out with them. Mom was dancing with them. Flirting with them. I hoped to God she didn't do anything more than that.

I was furious. In my anger, I knew I had to talk to her. I didn't care about my plan. I had to give her a piece of my mind. I saw she was online, so I rang her up on the webcam chat, and a few seconds later she picked up.

"Hey, stud, about time." Mom said, smiling wide.

"Uh..." I began, taken aback by her being so casual. "Do you... have something to say?" I said, barely containing my anger.

"Oh, yes!" Mom said, bouncing up and down happily. "When you so callously abandoned your own mother in a strange city, I happened to run into a casting director. He said I caught his eye, and I'd be perfect to be in a commercial. I mean, I've heard that story for years, but I didn't think it would happen to me. But I took his card, thought it over, then decided to, you know, go for it. I got the gig and shot the commercial last weekend. It's a cell phone commercial, and I got a few lines too. I thought it was pretty funny, I think. And they liked how I did it, and said they saw some spots for me in the future. They said I had 'it'. I mean, I had always thought about acting over the years, but I had given up on that. Not many women start getting jobs in their 40's. Who knows? Let's see where it goes, huh."

Her happiness was evident, but at that moment, nothing could have made me madder. She was looking at me, waiting for a response.

"I don't care." I said simply, causing her smile to drop.

"Excuse me?" she asked.

"I said I don't care about that. Congratu-fucking-lations." I spat out. "Why were you on campus? Why were you at a frat party? Why were you dancing like a skank around people I know? This is my school! My place. Not yours."

"Oh. Well, I was invited. I was in town, and I had a great day and wanted to relax." Mom explained.

"You were invited? Who invited you?" I asked.

"Oh, those guys Scotty and Erik. They were pestering me on Facebook until I gave in." Mom said.

"I saw the pictures. You were... all over them. Did you...?" I began.

"Ew. No, of course not. You should know, Tom, I'm not that easy. I did play with them a bit, and they were fun. Gosh, to think college guys are still so easy. College is still the same. I'm 42 and I fit right in." Mom marveled.

"Why didn't you tell me you were doing this?" I asked.

"I don't answer to you." Mom explained. "And besides, I would have been happy to tell you, but you've been dodging my calls for some reason."

I gritted my teeth. Mom was making it like her dressing like a slut and going to a college party was my fault.

"You know why I'm dodging you, Mom. Teasing me, coming after me is one thing. But bringing other people into it, in my house, that's another thing." I said angrily.

"I could say the same thing." Mom said. "You did bring that ugly little cunt in..."

I slammed my fist angrily on the table. My blood was boiling. Being nice, protecting her feelings, wasn't working. It was time to get vicious.

"You know what..." I began. "You wanna know why I moved on? Why it was so easy? Just look in the mirror. You're a twisted, scheming cunt! And you can act like you're still in college, that you're still one of the cool kids, but you're not. You're a mom. A married woman. You can keep deluding yourself, going to school parties, acting in a commercial and thinking that'll make you some big fucking star! HA! Keep fucking dreaming! You're best days are behind you, Mom. You're slipping. You're skills are fading fast. When you look in the mirror, do you notice age catching up to you? Do you see just a few more wrinkles? Some crow's feet. Maybe those big boobs of yours are starting to sag just a bit more every day. You're desperate, trying to act like you still have what it takes cause you know your skills are slipping."

"So, with all that said, why would I choose you? All the pros are on her side, and all the cons are with you. Which should I choose? A twisted, scheming, delusional old slut whose best days are behind her? And who is also my mom? Or, a 22 year-old, future doctor, who plays no games, is super-straightforward, super hot, and... every time I'm with her, I feel good about myself!? I feel like I'm doing the right thing. There is no teasing, no angling for the upper-hand, it's just peace. I'm happy with her. I can be open with her. With you, it's your little nutso games. Dad barely sticks around cause he can't deal with you. Face facts, Mom! Why would I choose you over her? Tell me, Mom. Tell me!" I insisted.

I immediately felt bad. I know I had gotten really mean, and it felt really weird talking to my mom so harshly, but she needed to hear it. I felt a little bad when her face dropped and I saw some genuine hurt cross her face. I didn't honestly believe half the stuff I had just said. I did feel more strongly towards Carmen than I did Mom, and I knew it was best for me in all ways to choose Carmen. But, attacking Mom's looks and appeal was a blatant lie. I mean, if anyone had conquered the wear and tear of time, it was Mom. If anyone had found a way to use time to their advantage, to add to their already amazing looks, it was her. I did it because if there was anything that could get her to slow down her attacks on me, it was self-doubt. I think I had struck a blow against her, but she steeled herself, kept it together, and responded.

"You'll pay for that." Mom began. "You can lie to yourself all you want. It'll make it so much better when I break you. And as for why should you choose me? Well, here's the thing, you're gonna be the one to do it... so you tell me." Mom replied.

I heard Luke fumbling at the door, about to enter.

"Goodbye Mom." I said, ending the call, cutting her off.

************

I felt bad for getting so angry, but she didn't stop. I didn't want Mom to change me again, to make me something I was not. I wanted to be cool, calm and collected. Not a yelling, screaming prick. I resolved myself to stay away from Mom, avoid her games, and refocus on Carmen.

I think she noticed I was getting a bit distracted. I played it off, saying Mom and me were having some issues, and I left it at that. She asked me what had happened between us, and I dodged the question. Eventually, she backed off, knowing I didn't want to share that with her. If I had my way, I wouldn't share that info with her for, like, ever.

Me and Carmen were in her dorm, watching a movie, curled up next to each other. We kept the room dark, the glow of the TV shining on us.

"You know, I thought this was, like, the best fucking movie when I was a kid." Carmen began.

"Was this one of those movies you watched every day?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah, totally." Carmen said. "I knew all the songs, I had like, every fucking line memorized." She said.

"I'm sure your parents fucking loved this movie." I replied with a laugh.

"Oh, I'm sure." Carmen confirmed.

"What do you think now?" I asked.

"It's still pretty good, but uh..." she began.

"Yeah, it's a bit of a kiddie movie." I finished.

"Yeah." Carmen confirmed. I felt a buzz in my pocket and pulled out my phone. I got a text from Mom. I was about to ignore it, but I had to read it.

"Please call me for a chat. We need to talk. No games. Important."

I tried to ignore it, to forget about it and not let Mom ruin this romantic evening with me and my girlfriend. She had been silent since our last argument, and I would be lying if I wasn't curious how she was. It could be one of her games, sure, but something about this felt different. Carmen noticed my distraction.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Nothing." I began. She just looked at me, knowing there was more to the story. "It's just Mom. She said it's, uh, important. But she might be screwing around."

"You'd better answer her." she said.

"After the movie." I said with a nod.

"McGee, I don't want you to have missed out on, uh, an emergency cause you wanted to finish a stupid movie with your super awesome fiancée. Go talk to her. The singing ducks will still be here." Carmen said. Smiling, I give her a small kiss then stepped down the hall to my room.

Luke was gone for the weekend, so I had the room to myself. I booted up the computer and opened up the chat program. It only rang once before she answered.

The picture booted up, and there was Mom. She looked very toned down, her make-up subtle, her hair down, her typical smug smile replaced by a slight, almost sad one.

"Hey." I said. "What's up? Is everything okay?"

"Um..." Mom began. "It's just, I've been thinking about what you said before. And you're right. I've let this whole thing get away from me. I've crossed a few lines, said some bad things about Carmen. And... I just wanted to apologize. I mean, I'm competitive, and I guess that got the best of me. I mean, you were right about a lot of things. I should stop chasing pipe dreams, like, you know, college parties, acting, it's all silly. You were right. I should act my age. I'm, you know, a MOM... I'm not the hot girl on campus anymore."

"Mom..." I began, feeling more guilt at how harsh I had been to her, especially with how hurt she seemed to be. "I should apologize too. I was pretty ruthless and I said some things that were pretty over the line. I don't know, I... I think I just got caught up in the whole thing too."

I could see Mom's eyes tearing up a bit, and she smiled.

"I mean, I figured you were just lashing out. I don't blame you. It still did kinda hurt, but it's still nice to hear you apologize." Mom said, wiping under her eye.

"Mom... can we just end this? Please? I've matured. I'm happy. I'm in a great relationship. I don't want to ruin any of that just cause of some, you know, infatuation I once had." I said.

"You're right." Mom said, nodding. "The best thing to do for both of us would be to just end this now." I felt my excitement rise. Had I done it? Was this journey finally over? "We are both starting to say things, you know, we don't really mean."

"I agree." I said, speaking genuinely. "I don't to ruin our relationship over some silly game. I never wanted that. I just want things to go back to how they used to be. You're my mother, and I'm your son. Let's not forget that."

"No more bullshit. No more lies." Mom said.

"Agreed." I said with a nod. "Some of the things you said were pretty mean."

"Some of the things you said were pretty hurtful." Mom said.

"I know." I began. "I didn't mean them. I didn't mean that, you know, Dad's not happy with you or anything like that."

"Oh, I don't care about that." Mom said, waving her hand. "But you said my tits sag."

"Wait, what?" I said, caught off guard.

"You said my tits sag! I knew that was a lie. I mean, you haven't seen them naked yet, but I think you can tell through my tops they're perky as fuck." Mom said, her tone losing that genuine emotion into one of more playfulness. "And I will have you know I don't have any fucking crow's feet! I barely have any wrinkles whatsoever, and for a woman my age, I think that's pretty fucking impressive." I gave her a look, a knowing glance. "And if you think, I've actually lost a step, keep fucking dreaming, baby. I had those frat guys drooling, and those casting directors' literally said they hadn't seen anyone like me ever. They're already talking, like, movie parts. They said the world needs to see me."

"Uh..." I began, but she wasn't done.

"But the biggest lie of all was what you said last. You actually think your little girlfriend has me beat? Who's the delusional one now, huh? Everything I said about her was fucking true. She is a troll-faced, whiny, little bitch who can't dress and doesn't know the first thing about being a woman. She is barely a girl. What, she wears like a hoody and pajama pants as her dress wear? What type of girl is that? Plus, she has no looks, terrible hair, no ass, and those tiny little tits!" Mom said incredulously.

"She has DD's!" I replied.

"Well, they're not FF's." Mom replied, cupping her massive jugs. "If you even try to tell me any little college girl has me beat, you're kidding yourself. Your mom has the tits, the ass, the cunt, the legs, the face, the hair, the stomach... I've got it all! And I'm sure you think Carmen is enough for you, you've deluded yourself into thinking your little rebound obsession is what you truly want, when we both know that's not the case. It's my breasts you want to squeeze. It's my nipples you want to suck. My mouth you want choking around your cock. It's my cunt you want to fill with your cum. It's my asshole you want to worship with your tongue. I'm sure it's fun to spray down those little college cunts with that thick, tasty cum of yours, but imagine how it would feel hosing down your own mom. Imagine how hard you would cum, how much cum you would spray onto me. I bet you've thought about it before. So, if you want the lies to stop, the first thing you should do is look in the mirror."

I was stunned. Sure, I hadn't heard her talk this raw to me, really, ever. But even though she said a lot of bad things, I wasn't even mad, truly.

"I will admit to one lie." I began. "You are a pretty good actress." She smiled.

"You liked that?" Mom said with a wicked smile. "I haven't busted out the fake tears in years."

I had to marvel at her. Marvel at how far she was willing to go just to get ahead. Part of me was mad, sure, but I was more amused than anything. I couldn't help playing along a little bit.

"That was good. That was good." I confirmed.

"Son, you've got to realize, I'm not gonna stop. I'm not gonna be shaken off. There is nothing I won't do to get what I want. There is nothing you can say that will stop me. Nothing you can do that will prevent this from happening. You will give in eventually. I'm too fucking hot to resist." Mom said.

"If you're so fucking willing to do anything, why don't you just fucking flash me those tits of yours. Cause if I supposedly can't handle myself around you, why don't you just do it now?" I dared her. She smiled.

"Oh, what's the fun in that?" she said. "Hon, you know why I won't just show you the goods. It's the same reason you didn't just slap your big cock on the table. I suspect you're pretty big, and you know that I, I mean, just look at them..." Mom said, jutting out her chest. "Me just giving up the goods makes me lose all the power. Removes any mystery. As long as I have these under wraps, I have something over you. And sure, just showing you my juicy tits might get the job done, but I want to challenge myself. I'm fighting with one hand tied behind my back, as are you." Mom said. I nodded.

"Well, Mom, I'll give you credit for trying." I told her. "But you just don't understand how much I love Carmen. I want you to stop cause you're wasting your time. I'm not changing my mind. So, you know what... do your worst. Give me your best shot, Mom. Lay it on me. I'll think you'll realize you're wasting your time."

"And I think you'll realize how much hotter your mom is compared to your little pathetic girlfriend." Mom said. I gritted my teeth, trying to look past her slights against Carmen.

"When me and her get married, I expect you to eat some serious crow." I told her.

"If you two get married, I'll get on my knees and kiss her fucking ass." Mom said. "But I'm not too worried about it. I think you'll find that I kneel for no one. Let me paint a picture for you." she began. I smiled, amused by how much work she was putting in. "Paint a picture of your life after you admit the truth. After you dump your little girlfriend, cause you will be dumping her. That much is certain. Cause sometime soon, you will see the goods. You hear me, Tom. You will see me naked. You will see your mother's big breasts. You will see her perfect ass. Her absolutely gorgeous cunt. You will see things no son should ever see. And that will almost be enough to break you. But you're a strong young man, so I'll give you credit. You won't break just yet. But it won't take long. I'll ride you, I'll put you through your paces until you beg me to stop, cause the pleasure is too great. The sight of my body in action is too sexy. You will beg your own mother to stop. And in that moment, I will own you. From that day on, you will follow me, be my little slave, always around, desperate to get your hands on me. You will worship the ground I walk on, you will kiss my feet, suck my toes, just for the hope that I will give you the pleasure you need. You will have long since stopped jacking off, stopped seeking anyone to relieve that pressure in your balls. Cause you know it's not worth it. Your own hand, or some girl's cunt, none of it will match up to the one magical night you spent driving into my cunt. Into my ass. So it will be far more productive to beg for me, to beg for the pleasure only I can provide. A pleasure that will never come. Cause you will only get me once. You only have one shot. And when you fail, I will have no reason to play with you again. Why would I? I would have gotten your best, and you would fail miserably. You will spend the rest of your life craving a pleasure that will never come. You will do everything I say like a good son should, and you will truly know that you could never handle me."

I let Mom finish monologuing. I was a little shocked at how severe the future was she had planned for me, but I wasn't too worried. I really didn't see that happening. I was more amused at how she came across like a crazed movie villain. I had to respond.

"Let me tell you what will actually happen. I will marry Carmen, and you will congratulate us. You will see how satisfied I am, and you will know that I beat you. That I never succumbed. And that will be the end. We will shake hands, and I'll move across the country, and start my new life as a married man... away from you." I told her. She smiled.

"Well, we'll see about that." Mom said.

"Indeed." I replied. I heard a knock at the door and realized Carmen and the movie had been long forgotten in my conversation with Mom. I think mom realized that, and a coy smile crossed her lips.

"Bye." I told her.

"Bye Tom." she replied.

************

I was a little unhappy that I had engaged Mom in her little game but I was happy about how unbothered I was by it. It was like a former alcoholic taking a drink and realizing he didn't like the taste anymore. I saw her game, I was in it for a bit, but I walked away.

Her words and proclamations didn't really bother me. Carmen kept me happy and distracted, so a lot of Mom's big moves began to fade into memory.

Mom kept at it, but her moves were limited. I think she was hoping her declaration would have me obsessed with her all over again, but that really wasn't the case. I had done a better job suppressing Mom all over again. Sure, after seeing the video of her swallowing my cum, I let myself fall into old habits again. I didn't like that. But after overcoming her once before, I found doing it a second time was far easier, especially when I had someone by my side.

The video of her chugging my cum was thrilling to watch. And then seeing pictures of her slutting it up in front of guys my age, that made my blood boil. But that was the best she could do, and clearly, that wasn't enough. Her main plan of attack nowadays was sending me sexy pictures.

I liked to call it Mom's picture of the day. Every afternoon, I would return to my dorm from classes and find an email in my inbox. There would be little sayings, like "Thought you would need some relief after a long day,", or "Some memories of home," stuff like that. And in these emails were pictures.

Mom in bikinis. Mom posing sensually. Mom looking hot in normal, everyday clothes. As time went on, her pictures began to push more boundaries. One had her lying on her stomach on her bed, topless, her big breasts pressed into the bed, so much round flesh exposed as she flashed her bedroom eyes at the camera. I don't think she was wearing anything, as I could see her butt curve behind her, but I saw no details.

I enjoyed these pictures, sure, but I wasn't too bothered by it. I looked at them and then moved on. I may have looked at some a little harder than others, but I was able to compartmentalize them. I didn't let them distract me from Carmen, my one true love. And if Mom was turning up the heat, I realized she might be getting desperate.

I wasn't a bad boyfriend. I wasn't distracted. I wasn't suspicious. I was great. Me and Carmen were joined at the hip, going to movies, going out to eat. I met a lot of her friends and I think I won them over. I was doing adult things, growing up, being mature, leaving that silly obsession with Mom behind.

I was happy at how well things were going, but I felt like Mom was saving her best ammunition for when I came back home. There was both spring break and summer break, and both would give her the chance to work her wiles on me. I hadn't been home alone with Mom since the summer, and although I trusted myself, I didn't exactly want to put myself in that position.

So, I talked to Carmen and asked her what her plans were for spring break and summer break. I told her I didn't want to be away from her for that long. We talked it out, and when she came up with a plan, I couldn't help but smile.

************

"I love all this sneaking around." Carmen said as we stood in my room back home. It was the first day of spring break. Me and Carmen were heading down to Mexico for spring break, to some resort. I needed to grab some stuff from home before our flight. I knew Mom would be busy today with some friends, and Dad was away on business, so I knew I could come home and not be intercepted by anyone.

I grabbed the stuff I needed, and me and Carmen began to head downstairs. As we stepped out the front door, I had to stop, cause standing right there, looking up in shock, was Mom.

I stepped back a bit. This was the first time we had been face to face since our meal at that restaurant back at school. She looked up at me, and her eyes widened in surprise.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, smiling warmly. She was wearing a pink tank top and a thin pullover. On her lower half was a pair of khaki capri pants and some flip-flops. She, as always, looked great.

"Oh, um, we were heading out before our flight and I had to just grab a few things." I explained.

"Trying to sneak home without seeing your old mom?" she asked with a smile. She stepped forward and gave me a firm, squishy hug, forcing her big breasts against me. I was forced to just take it. She stepped back and greeted Carmen.

"Hello, dear." Mom said.

"Hi, Mrs. M." Carmen said.

"So, you hanging around at all?" Mom asked with a knowing glint in her eye.

"Fraid not." I said. "Our flight's pretty soon here."

"Oh. Shame." Mom said. "Well, I wish I could have gotten you home over Spring Break, but at least I'll have my son back over the summer." she said happily. Me and Carmen exchanged a look, and Mom noticed. "What?" she asked. I looked at Carmen, and she shrugged.

"Oh, um, well, me and her have been talking. And... her folks bought us a bit of a trip as an engagement gift/graduation gift for her. So, me and her gonna go to Europe for the summer... so I probably won't be home much, if at all. We're moving in together next year. We'll probably have to move in as soon as we get back." I explained.

Looking at Mom, I saw her eyes widen. For the first time, Mom looked a bit panicked. All of sudden, she had realized she was running out of time with me. She had this all planned out, no doubt, to tempt me during summer break, but now, that wasn't gonna happen.

"When did this happen?" Mom asked, clearly frustrated.

"Um, not too long ago." I said. She looked at me and chewed her lip. She looked over at Carmen.

"Carmen, can you give us a minute?" Mom asked.

"Sure." Carmen said, walking towards my car and playing with her phone. Mom made sure she was far enough away before speaking up. She turned to look at me, and I simply smiled.

"Don't look so smug." Mom said, annoyed.

"I think that's checkmate, Mom." I said. Mom was tapping her foot, thinking. She looked back at Carmen then back to me.

"Not quite." Mom began. "You dump her right now and stay here, you can have me. No bullshit. You can take me anyway you want, any hole, any position. We could be having sex in five minutes, Tom. Think about that. You can live your dream... right now. All that work you did before. It could pay off right now. Let's do this thing. Let's just get naked and get really fucking nasty."

I simply smiled at her.

"Face it Mom. It's over." I told her. "Give it up."

Mom just gritted her teeth and looked at me. I stepped forward and confidently gave her hug.

"Have a good summer, Mom." I told her. I stepped back as she narrowed her eyes at me. I had turned and I was about to walk away when I stopped. I couldn't help myself. I stopped and turned to face her again. I stepped in close, but this time, I did something different. I moved in close, reached around me, and slapped my hand confidently on her juicy ass. As I gave it a firm, healthy squeeze, I moved my lips to her ear and whispered.

"And besides, Mom... you couldn't handle me."

I pulled away and winked at her. Her eyes were wide and glassy as she looked up at me. Knowing I had survived my battle with Mom, I turned and walked away from her, walking towards my fiancée, walking towards a bright new future.

*

(Author's Note: Next time on "You Couldn't Handle Me", you just have to wonder what Tom's rejection will do to Tanya's ego, and what kind of things she'll do to get what she wants. Cause you have to think she knows she will now have to go a lot farther than she ever has before to try and conquer Tom.)