#mommysub

"Really, son? Again?" I gripe, clearly displeased even as I walk over to the kitchen table and pull out one of the chairs.

He nods again, biting his lip and bouncing on the balls of his feet in anticipation.

I sigh again, painfully aware of what a pushover I've become in my own household.

My son isn’t a bad boy. Far from it. Ordinarily, he’s so polite and obedient, but he’s been noticeably pushing his luck lately. Asking for more and more, seeing what he can get away with. Tiptoeing right up to the line and peering back at me to see if, when and how quickly I can pull him back.

I didn’t want to believe it at first, but maybe I was too hasty in granting him certain privileges, after all.

I take off my apron and toss it on the table. Oh, well. No way to un-ring that bell now.

I reach down, taking the hem of my long skirt and tucking it into my waistband, baring myself from the waist down. 

 "This is getting to be a habit with you,” I observe darkly, sliding my panties off.

"You said I could!" he pouts, approaching reluctantly, worried I’ll change my mind. "You said I could be a doctor one day if I wanted, remember?" 

"Oh, I remember. But do you?"

"Moooom, come on -"

“Hole inspections are a responsibility ,” I lecture, climbing up to kneel on the chair, my back arched and my bare bottom stuck out for my baby boy's appraisal. "This isn't playtime for you, and it certainly isn't for me. Okay? Don’t make me regret giving you these privileges.”

He kneels behind me. "I have to make sure."

"You made sure an hour ago, son!” I snap as he spreads my pussy lips apart with well-practiced fingers. “What could have changed in that amount of - Ow! "

My son’s palm lands with a stinging thud on one of my cheeks, startling me into silence.

"Hush! I'm checking now. No moving, Mom. I mean it."

I heave yet another world-weary sigh and give my head a despairing shake, but hold still as I'm told.

Clearly, I've been spoiling him too much. It started off so small, too. Little things at first, like letting him stay up past his curfew and watch old black-and-white sitcom reruns with me.

Later, it became ... other things.

Showering with me because he wanted to help Mommy save on the water bill.

Practicing tongue kissing for a part in his school play.

Even these silly inspections had begun because he'd come home one day in tears, wailing about an educational film he'd seen at school about breast cancer.

He was so scared Mommy wasn't checking herself for lumps. So scared, in fact, that as soon he'd come home from school that same day, he yanked my dress down and checked me himself right then and there. He insisted on checking every day after school. Eventually, it wasn't enough to just check for breast lumps. He had to inspect me more thoroughly.

He plunges two fingers up into me, jogging me back into the moment. My misgivings yield to the now-familiar sensation of being probed and invaded. I feel his hot breath on my backside. The kitchen is silent except for the wet, fleshy sounds of his fingers sliding in and out of my pussy. 

This is a labor of love, I remind myself for the millionth time. This'll all be worth it once he's in med school .

"You're not mad, are you? Mom? Mom, are you mad?"

Guilt tugs at my heartstrings. "No, son, I'm not mad -"

"Then can we do it on the floor this time?" he asks, blurting out the question so fast it practically sounds like one word instead of a whole sentence: Thencanwedoitonthefloorthistime?

"What? Why on earth - ?”

“The lighting is better,” he says with the confidence of someone who clearly anticipated this argument and prepared his rebuttals accordingly. “I’ll get a better look with your butt in the air instead of like this.”

Think of the tuition fund. Think of the tuition fund. Think of the tuition -

"Oh, my God,” I huff. “Fine!"

I climb gingerly off the chair and assume a similar position on my knees. He immediately pushes my head down on the tiled kitchen floor. Thank goodness I mopped earlier. I can still smell the lingering scent of Pine Sol in the air. He kneels behind me, gently spreading me open with his fingers again.

"And you won't get mad, right?" he asks abruptly, his voice curiously breathless and off-kilter all of a sudden.

"... What would I have to get mad about?" I ask, suspicion growing at the way his phrasing has changed. "What are you - Oh!"

The smooth, rounded head of something hard and hot presses against my slit, pushing and prodding until it parts the opening. 

"Hey. Hey!"

"Uuh uuugh," he groans, feeling Mommy's warm, wet walls closing around his aching cock at long, long last.

"Son!" I bark.

"You said you wouldn't get mad," he pants, thrusting against my ass with all his might, just like he's seen it done in the porn he's been secretly watching behind my back. 

I begin to yell at him, but he just keeps going until I give up and quiet down. I listen to the steady plap-plap-plap of my son's body colliding with mine and wonder where I went wrong as a mother.

It's a school night, for Christ's sake!

"Can this be part of my privileges, too, now? Please, Mom?" he begs, rutting deeper and deeper into me, emboldened by my surrender and already addicted to these new sensations. "Since we've done it now? Please. Please? Please, please, please, mom, can I? I'm already inside, can I - ?"

"Alright, alright! Okay. Jesus, just ... make it quick, I still have to cook us dinner, you know. And what do you say?"

"Thank you!" Plap, plap, plap , plap, plap.

He picks up the pace, his heavy balls swinging violently against my clit with each haphazard jerk of his hips. I tell him to slow down. He follows these instructions for all of four or five pumps in my pussy before he speeds up again anyway, apologizing breathlessly and blaming it on how good it feels inside me.  

I squirm a bit, waiting for it to be over. His fingers dig into the meat of my hips; I can already feel the crescent-shape of his fingernails leaving their impression. And he's using his dick like it’s a battering ram. A battering ram mounted on hydraulics, holy shit.

We'll need to have a serious talk about technique soon if this is going to be a regular thing. My insides aren't going to be able to handle it otherwise.

I gasp sharply and realize I spoke too soon when his tip begins to dig into my cervix with each increasingly desperate, clumsy thrust. He presses in closer, taking shorter stabs at it, arms wrapped tight around Mommy's waist to keep her close. Or just to keep her from getting away.

Holy hell, that talk will have to be sooner rather than later.

"Uuuh. Uuuuh! I love you! FUCK." Fwapfwapfwapfwapfwap . "I love you, Mom!"

"Love you, too, son," I grunt, bracing for what I know is coming. I'm not even sure if he hears me, he's so preoccupied with fucking his first grown-up hole like a big boy. He drives into me one last time, jammed right up against my womb as the inevitable shudders begin to wrack his body.

"M-Mom, Mom, I think I'm cumming. I'm cumming, Mom!"

"Uh-huh. Yep. Go for it, sweetie," I say, hoping like hell he's right so we can wrap this up.  

"Aaaahgh!" Hot semen fills me, spurting into my core before I can tell him to pull out first.

Great, I think, grimacing as he keeps thrusting away, fucking it in deeper. I'll have to run to the pharmacy after this ... After I shower ... And get the goddamn feeling back in my legs.

When he finally goes still, I reach back and pat him on his hip.

"Alright. Good job, honey. Mommy's all inspected and stretched out now. Let's get up off the floor, okay?”

He doesn’t pull out. He straightens behind me, but he doesn't pull out or let go of my hips. I can't help but notice that he hasn't gone soft inside me, either.

“... Son? Did you hear what I said?"

He still doesn't pull out. He's still buried deep, hips flush against me.

"Mommy’s knees can’t take much more of the floor now, okay? We gotta get up now."

Reluctantly, he slides his length out. I sigh with relief.

That's when I feel two thumbs parting my ass cheeks. I stiffen with shock when I feel a big glob of saliva drip precisely into my spread asshole.

"... Hey, Mom - ?"

"No."

"I didn't even ask you yet!" 

"I know what you're going to ask, and the answer is no! And before you ask, yes, I WILL be mad at you."

I can practically hear the gears turning in his head as he weighs the pros and cons of disobeying me.

"... How mad?" he asks.

"I'll ... I-I'll send you to bed without any dinner!" I threaten, fighting to keep the shrill note of panic out of my voice even as I feel my ass beginning to give way to the pressure my son is applying with his still-wet cock.

"Oh ... Okay!" he chirps brightly before promptly slamming himself inside me again, safe in the knowledge that he has his secret stash of candy and beef jerky to fall back on.