Shelly, 38 years old with a body newly burnished from cycling and yoga, has been hanging around the house more and more with no clothes on. At most, a silk bathrobe, yellow and painted with blue, vaguely East Asian temple-like structures, hangs off her shoulders. She ties it when someone’s at the door, a deliveryman or her neighbor Trish, but otherwise it hangs open and anyone could see her strong body, her muscular legs, her breasts. Anyone, she says to herself, catching sight of herself in the full-length mirror in the hallway, the brown hair on her cunt spreading like a tea stain halfway up to her belly button, anyone could see her nakedness.
She is of a mind to make that happen, with her husband long dead, having left her with the password to his Bitcoin wallet, which held a couple hundred of the nearly worthless cryptocurrency he’d bought as a joke in 2012 when the Mayan Apocalypse was supposed to happen, and then forgot about. But he left the password to his wallet with Shelly among the other papers about his life insurance and so on, a lot of assets that looked pathetic compared to the bitcoin which was now worth 20 million dollars or something.
The years after the pandemic have been unbelievable for the stock market. Post-Trump, post-COVID, post-nuclear age — the next president managed to outlaw nukes worldwide — you can hardly help making money. She once cashed in a million dollars worth of the Bitcoin to make some supposedly safe investments, and after three years the million was worth two million. It’s like a film set in a future where some of the worst problems have been sussed out.
Lately she’s pacing the house like a lioness ready for something to happen. Ready for someone to glimpse her naked flesh, and do more a lot more than glimpse. But for the past few years she’s sat on the bitcoin, not telling anyone, paying for her only child, a 19-year-old named Johnny, to go to an expensive private college. She’s not sure how to get involved with anyone without them finding out about her windfall, how to trust anyone with that knowledge. Only her lawyer and her accountant know. And she doesn’t want to fuck them.
Johnny is coming home from college for half the summer, before going off to Europe to fuck around for the other half before his sophomore year. Well, Shelly tells herself, blood is thicker than water.
Johnny comes home, his own youthful body bursting with vigor. He’s on the rock climbing team or something like that, and his body is like a bow ready to be bent. He comes home, they have a nice how-was-school-honey dinner.
She put on clothes, for once, to pick him up from the train station, but when dinner ends she says “I’m going to get comfortable” and excuses herself to undress, put on some fancy lingerie she’s laid out, and ties (loosely) her silk robe. Out in the kitchen, Johnny is finishing the dishes. She leans against the kitchen counter, measuring herself against him. She’s still a wee bit taller.
“You want to have a drink together?” she asks as he washes his hands and neatly hangs up the dishtowel. “Or maybe — pot’s legal here, you know.”
He laughs. “You’ve been doing pot? My mom is doing pot?”
She walks over to the fridge and takes out a colorful bag. “Not only that, but they deliver. I hate toking, to tell you the truth, but have you discovered edibles? These gummies are fantastic.”
“I can’t believe this,” he laughs again.
“You might find yourself using that phrase a lot tonight,” she says, taking a little box out of the bag. “I like these, they give a good body high.” She selects two gummies and pops them in her mouth, then hands him the box. “Go on.”
“Specifically, we’re going to get high together?” he says.
“Or, you know, you could go in your room and play Fortnite or whatever the kids are doing these days. 4-dimensional Star Wars or whatever. Or we could hang out.”
He stands there looking at her for a minute, then takes three gummies and eats them.
“Good choice,” she says. “Now come on over to the couch and let’s wait to come on.”
They take up positions on either end of the couch. She loosens the belt on her robe a little bit — one more tug and it’ll fall open.
“I’m doing drugs with my mom.”
“Take your shoes and socks off so you can sit sideways and face me. There, that’s nice. Now tell me a secret.”
“A secret?”
“Every kid has secrets from their parents, I know that. It’s the only way to stay sane. I get it. But we’ll have a little secret exchange here. What do you think?”
“Well… you go first.”
“Okay. Let’s see. You know my friend Trish? Couple years younger than me, though as you might guess things like an age difference start to matter a lot less as you get older. Maybe you don’t know that yet. Well, you will. Anyway, Trish, as you might remember, is someone I knew back in college.”
“What’s the secret?”
“We did some porn videos together.”
“Oh my God.”
“I know. It was an experience.”
“What– I mean, what did…”
“What did we do? I assume you know what pornography is. And that you’ve seen some of it? In fact, I’ll make this really easy for you. That can be your first secret. Then when you’re done I’ll tell you what I did with Trish.”
Johnny looks wildly around the room. Is this a joke? Are there hidden cameras? Are some people going to pop out from the hallway and yell SURPRISE? “What am I supposed to tell you?”
She licks her lips. It’s too early for the pot to be hitting her but she feels a little lightheaded already. “Tell me, Johnny,” she says, “about the porn you watch. Tell me what kind you like.”
“Well…” he takes a deep breath. “I like bukkake a lot.”
“Ah,” she nods, “that’s interesting. Tell me about it.”
“I mean, it’s bukkake.”
“Johnny, please, I know we’re not high yet but maybe you can get into the spirit of things here. I know full well what bukkake is, but I want to hear it from you.”
“There’s a lot of guys and they gather round some girl and they come on her face.”
“Go on.”
He stares at her.
“Johnny, this is your mom here. Friends, remember? Remember when I told you that you could tell me anything? Well, right now your mom, who just took 10 mg of pot and is sitting across from you wearing little clothing, as you must have noticed, is asking you to tell her about the nasty bukkake videos you watch and how the face of some pretty little bitch gets streaked with come that drips off her chin and gets in her hair and she really, really likes it and tells the guys ‘More, more come,’ while meanwhile someone’s fucking them on the other end and she’s coming because it’s so nasty and turns her on so much.
“Now tell me yours.”
He takes a deep breath. “Well, there’s this one. It’s Japanese. There’s actually kind of a story, which makes it unusual. And even though it’s all in Japanese with no translation or anything you can totally follow what’s going on. So there’s this teacher, really pretty young teacher, dressed conservatively and reading something to a classroom full of, I guess high school boys? And they’re all clowning, talking behind her back, making stupid jokes from the looks of it, and she can’t make them behave. Suddenly two men come into the room, it’s clear it’s the principal and some other guy, and they start yelling at her. Again, it’s all in Japanese, but it seems like they’re telling her they know she can’t control the classroom, and they’re fed up because her students are the worst, and she needs to clean up her act and do whatever it takes to motivate her students and get them to behave. And then they leave.
“So the teacher looks around the classroom. The students are giggling at her because they think nobody’s going to turn them into good little high school boys. She starts speaking. And she makes a big speech. I’m not sure what she’s saying, but maybe something like ‘Okay, I know I’ve sucked up to now, and it’s not your fault you’re bad students, that’s on me, but I want to keep my job and like the principal said I’m going to do anything to turn things around.’ Some kid says something, maybe ‘Yeah good luck with that’ because everybody laughs again.
“‘No, I’m serious,’ she says. ‘I’m going to show you how serious I am.’ And she slowly starts taking off her clothes. she strips down right there in the classroom, and she definitely has their attention now, so that’s something. And the whole time she’s stripping, very slowly, she’s talking to them. She’s no longer using a teacher voice, she’s speaking very quietly now, and sweetly, and even though she isn’t smiling, she seems so sincere. As she takes off piece after piece of clothing — first her heels, then her grey wool skirt, then she unbuttons her white blouse — all the boys are going ‘Ehhhh??’ like ‘Oh wow, shit’s getting real in Room 222.’ Then she kneels down on the floor and says, ‘Now everybody get up here, one after the other, get up here and jack off on my face.’ And it takes some encouragement but suddenly they practically bum rush up there, and one guy after another comes on her face, in her hair, and she starts to masturbate and say, ‘Yes, yes, that’s it, everybody do it, come on me, come, do it.
“So one by one all the guys come on her. She’s now leaning against the wall under the blackboard so she can jack off more easily. And finally they’re all finished.
“So now she stands up and pulls her clothes back on in a kind of ragged fashion. She’s a complete mess. But she picks up her lesson book and starts the lesson again from where she left off. And all the kids are now back in their seats and they are all perfect students now. They put up their hands! They know the answers! And after a few of these questions one guy yells something like ‘Let’s hear it for teacher!’ and they all give her a big fucking cheer. The end.”
Shelly’s listened to this with great amusement, and also rising arousal, because the drugs are hitting her now and also because she happens to know this porn video which her son has just finished relating as if it’s Gone with the fucking Wind.
“Johnny,” she says. “One question. At the end when she’s teaching again, is jizz still dripping off her face?”
Johnny takes a quick deep breath, almost a gasp, and his eyes grow wide, and she knows that simultaneously, A, the drugs have hit him, and B, he’s just realized he told his mother about his favorite bukkake video, in detail, with vigor.
“Tell me,” his mother says. “Is come still dripping off her face at the end?”
His whole body wriggles, a spasm of pleasure, and he says, “Her face is covered in fucking come.”
“Good.” She gives a slight tug at the belt of her robe and it falls open. This is what she wanted for weeks — for someone, anyone, to see her body, her breasts, her pussy hair showing around the edges of her fancy blue panties, and then to look at her just they way her son, now high on drugs and looking at her in a very new way, is doing now.
–> Stay tuned for part 2
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/mqtp6g/johnnys_mother_part_1_incest
Great story!
Whoa ? Mom is gonna get sugar coated!