Message-ID: <34724asstr$1011064203@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Message-ID: <20020114180056.53663.qmail@web10302.mail.yahoo.com> From: One Gallus X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Mon, 14 Jan 2002 10:00:56 -0800 (PST) Subject: {ASSM} Ernest Ernestine 4 (Fm, inc) X-Original-Subject: Ernest Ernestine (Fm, inc) Date: Mon, 14 Jan 2002 22:10:03 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, newsman __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Send FREE video emails in Yahoo! Mail! http://promo.yahoo.com/videomail/ <1st attachment, "Ernest 4.txt" begin> Disclaimer: Persons under eighteen years of age are not permitted to read this work. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely co-incidental. You are not permitted to change this work in any way. You are not permitted to use this work on any site without obtaining permission from the author. This work may not be sold without the author's permission. Ernestine Ernest Part 4 (I swept back my short hair with my fingers, and let the water shoot against my breasts, denting them with its force. My scalp felt loose and my body was relaxing. A blessed kind of numbness began to float into me. Then the shower door opened.) He stepped in front of me, looking up from three inches below, into my puffy face, into my swollen eyes. Water hit the back of his head and flashed out around it, like a jagged halo. His expression was solemn and followed his own hand. He picked up the soap from the recessed holder and cupping it in his palm, ran it over the rounded right angle of my shoulder. Soon, bubbly foam had formed and was coursing down onto my chest. Somehow, without my knowing the path he took, he was lathering my breasts, his throat emitting abbreviated whimpers as he moved. Nor did I know precisely when my fingers encircled his stiff penis. The soapy water allowed my hand to slide down easily under his scrotum and grope the softness here. He dropped the soap and soon both his hands were at my buttocks, opening and closing around handfuls of my flesh. His face was in my upper breasts, rooting gently between them. My hand guided his penis into the tiny soapy triangle formed by the three- way junction of thighs and vulva. There, he immediately began to grind forward and back. With my finger pushing him up and against my labia, I kissed his penis with my lower lips. Occasionally I would lift his glans and gouge it into my clitoris and it was in this way that I reached my first climax and he reached his second. As I came, my blood seemed to surge upward in my thighs and I tried desperately to press him into me in that standing position, to no avail. I felt his semen jetting onto my tender membranes and run down between my thighs, and over my knees, which were trembling by now. By then the hot water had turned lukewarm and as my son's penis softened in its trap, I turned off the water by reaching around his shoulders. The muting of the water amplified ragged breathing and we stood in naked exhaustion. I felt a physical satisfaction, a post orgasmic relaxation, but I felt no emotional euphoria. My emotions were as confused as ever. The steamy heat was oppressive and I elbowed open the shower door. Should I lead the way? Should he follow Mother's fat ass to the bed? What was the protocol here? He backed out, keeping his eyes on my face, leading me by the hand. The air outside the shower stall seemed chilly on my bare skin and I shuddered. He came back into my arms and we stood embracing for a minute, my hands feeling his small buttocks. I smelled the residue of semen rise from my thighs and I wondered if it would offend him, if I should go back into the shower. Yet, how could his own odor be unpleasant to him? Then the resentment stabbed at me again and I thought, who gives a damn? Ernie looked at me with longing. "Will you dry me?" he asked. "No," I said, and moved, wet, down the passage to the bedroom. Let him see my fat ass, I thought. Despite Ernie's high-handedness toward me in every other way, his awkwardness and eagerness confirmed that he had been a virgin, like most boys his age. This realization quickly distilled into a knowledge that there had been an alteration, a shift in control. I knew that now I had the upper hand, at least in the sex itself. Frankly, it felt very liberating. I could see from that young stirring penis that Ernie had not yet exhausted his energies. I scooted to the far side of the bed, shifting under the covers and lay down, letting the bed clothes dry me. I made no move to pat out a place for him. On the other hand, I did not clutch the blanket to my chin. I simply looked at Ernie from my position on my right side. He stood, shivering and looking back, unsure. He climbed in wet and lay beside me. He pulled the covers up to his shoulders and turned on his side, looking at me wonderingly. He tentatively reached and cupped my upper breast. "Could I put it in?" he asked, huskily. "Not now." The disappointment was palpable on his face. "I love you, I really do," he said. "Really? Then why have you treated me like shit?" "I didn't treat you . . ." "Shut up." I continued to look at him. He didn't meet my eyes, but lay silent, my breast in his now-stilled hand. We lay facing each other for another minute. A smile formed slowly on his lips. He began to massage my breast again. "You can't tell Dad or anybody else about this, can you?" "Why not?" I asked, but knowing he was essentially right. "Child abuse," he said. "I read about it on the internet. A boy said his mother fucked him and she had to go to jail." "What if I told you I don't care?" I said. "Oh, you care, Ernestine, you care." I took his semi-erect penis in my right hand and stroked its length gently. "But then, you wouldn't get anymore of this, would you?" Ernest blinked. I continued to masturbate him slowly. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He spoke again, "Please . . . Can I . . . you know . . . do it to you?" "What? Fuck me?" Ernie blushed. "Why?" I said irritably, "You came two times already." The corners of his mouth trembled with a smile. "Yeah, but I wasn't in it." He blinked his eyes when he said it. "In what?" "You." "You mean my pussy?" I suddenly clutched his penis firmly and stretched the skin back as far as I could and opened my eyes wide to him. Ernie gasped and his eyes bugging out and blinking. "Mom," he said, "You never talked that way before!" "I never jacked off my son off before either." He was silent and looked at my breasts which had by now rolled outside of the covers. He expelled his breath through a tiny "O" formed by his lips, a bewildered sigh. I loosened my grip and started stroking again, gently. He shut his eyes. Ernie was now very hard. He remained silent for a few seconds. "Mom, couldn't we do it now?" "No, I'll just jack you off," I said, off- handedly. "Well, okay," he said, rising to his left elbow, fondling my breast with the right hand. "But, could you come and sit on the toilet seat and do it with the towel?" He grinned in embarrassment. "What?" I said. "You know, Mom, like you did when I was eleven-years-old?" His grin widened and he looked down at my breasts. "I don't know what you're talking about," I said, looking at him reproachfully. He pulled his hand away from my breast and stared at me a moment. This time the sigh came through the nose. "Alright, then, just do it to me with your hand," he said, resigned. I let go immediately. "No, not now." He flushed between anger and confusion. "Not now?" "No." "I'll tell Dad," he said, the swagger of the last few months returning. "Go ahead." "I mean it." "Okay." He looked down again. "Couldn't you just jack me off?" he whined. "If you suck my pussy first." His eyes widened. "Wow, really?" "You know how to do it?" "I've seen pictures," he said. "Where?" "At school, some of the guys have them." "You must be an expert then, I said, and I threw off the covers, kicked them down and turned on my back with my son watching the spectacle in wonderment. I spread my legs wide and ran a finger through my vulva. "You know what?" I said, "You're semen is still on my pussy. Guess you'll have to eat that too." "God, Mom, could you wash?" I snorted, "Shit no. You want some pussy, then you take what goes with it." Reluctantly, Ernie moved down between my legs, his face coming within a foot of my vulva where he paused and stared. I reached down and with each hand, I spread myself wide so that the vagina and lips were clearly visible. I was slick with his semen and I had to keep gripping at myself. "Just run your tongue around on that," I exposed my clitoris to him. "This is my clit. You can make me come if you lick up close to that." Ernie stared at the hairy wet animal before him. Several times he came near, but backed up. Then finally, he shook his head. "I can't, Mom." "Ohh," I said sympathetically, encircling my clitoris with my finger. "No jack-off then?" "Uh, I guess not; besides, I'm not hard anymore." He was very embarrassed. "Okay, babe," I nodded and flopped his now-limp penis gently with my fingers. "But you almost had me talked into a nice fuck." "Really?" "Yes," I giggled. "I want to feel you inside me." Ernie reached down under him, squeezed his crotch and tensed his shoulders. "You're just teasing me, aren't you?" he asked, uncertainly, his breath caught a moment. "You do want to fuck me don't you?" "Yes," he chuckled, excited. "Well, you have to eat your supper first." "Supper?" he asked. "Pussy, baby, mamma's pussy!" I began to raise and lower my pelvis. "Okay, Mom," coming to it now with a smile. He put one knee, then the other up on the bed. "Alright!" I said. "Just don't throw up on the bed. "Gee, Mom!" I laughed, but said nothing and raised my pubis high. After a half-second hesitation, Ernie quickly put his mouth on it. Of course he loved it. I grasped his head between my hands and guided him around the territory. Tom did this for me early in our marriage, one time, but never wanted to do it again. I was only one-up on my son, but he didn't know that. The virgin tongue was clumsy, but in something like this, clumsy seemed good. Every time he grazed my clitoris with his tongue I lunged toward him and groaned. When he was into it and had obviously found the male pleasure of it, I spoke. "Oh, you little bastard, suck it! Suck up one of those lips into your mouth. Yes, that's it. Oh boy, just think what's coming, Ernie. I'm going to give you the best fuck you'll ever have!" He came up from me, and I looked up at him, now on his elbows, face glowing with my wetness. "Could we do it now?" he asked. "Hell no," I laughed, "You make me come, and then we'll fuck." Again, he lowered his head into the hair and I soon found myself bucking, my abrupt groans seemed to alternate with the squeaky sounds of his mouth to an ever increasing tempo. When I finally went over the top, I pulled his mouth and nose violently into my wet tissues. I held him there with no air, moving my hips slowly. He took it well at first, but after ten seconds, he began to struggle. I had the back of his head in my hands and I held on. "Ah yes, baby, that's good, that's good." With a main effort, he wrested himself out of my hold and wheezed loudly for air. His eyes were round with terror and his stricken face was white with shock. He'd been within a beat of passing out. "Now you can fuck the shit out of your mother," I said. He rose up to his knees, straightened his back and looked at me, trembling. "Come on Ernie, fuck me! I want to come with that little cock in me! Come on, baby!" I held out my arms stiffly to him and he gazed at me with confusion, I moved my mound up toward him. "I don't think I'm hard anymore, Mom." "Aw, honey, are you sure?" "Yeah." "Shit. Maybe tomorrow, then?" "Yeah, I'm gonna take a shower now." "Okay, baby, go take your shower." "Thanks," he said, in a whisper, as he slid away and off the bed. He headed wearily for the bathroom, his bathroom, not mine. His little ass was flashing white as his form passed through the doorframe. "Of course, I could always suck you back into a hard-on." I said, "Then we could fuck." He paused just outside the door and stood a moment, turned around and came back in, grinning and obviously embarrassed. He said, "Could you do that?" I was posing, lying sideways to him, my breasts falling one on top of the other. I pulled in my stomach and rubbed my pubis. "Sure, Ernie, I'm quite the cocksucker," I purred. I had done it once to my husband, early in our marriage. "He chuckled nervously and clambered back into my bed. He unfolded himself in front of me, his shrunken little finger of a cock finally humbled under my eyes. I firm my lips into a rigid ring and slide it down over his penis, sucking it up and making it stand inside the walls of my mouth. I flick his foreskin with the underside of my tongue, purring as I lap him into another youthful erection. I will bring him to orgasm here in my mouth and drink his semen. I will not allow him into my vagina today. I will eventually, I know, but not before I drive him to distraction. I refuse to look at the months or the years ahead of me, and ahead of him. If you say I am unhappy now, I say that I was the more unhappy before, manipulated and harassed by my own son. At least now, I will have some control over my life, not to mention my child. I will hold his interest through sex. He will never get from girls what I am willing to give him as a woman. Of course, I will mete it out in small increments but I will take him to adventures he has not even dreamed of. He will not want to give them up, not for a long while. By then he will be a mother- fucker and he will have done it to himself. Don't you agree? The End OneGallus@Yahoo.com Comments welcome <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. 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