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  1. #31
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    Re: Shota Impregnator [F/m MILF mom shota incest underage happy]

    "Gosh, Mrs. Cherkle, I really love your cookies!" Momma needed me with her while she made a meal for the anniversary couple, tomorrow. I could skip my last two classes to be with Mrs. Cherkle, but that might make Mrs. Lum mad.

    However, Momma said she didn't need my help with the meal for Mr. Gorgev. She just couldn't leave me alone in the apartment while she was away working. "If you would tell my mom that you could watch me on Thursday, while she works, I can spend the whole evening with you."

    Mrs. Cherkle's eyes lit up with fire. "I-I will, Billy. I'll let her know you're always welcome to stay with me when she works."

    I glowed at the thought of being her Daddy again, maybe with her strong husband watching with his sad eyes. Bonus, I would have an extra day for my sperm to recover.

    My school day flew by at first, happy that I would be making babies with lots of women again. The trouble began when Ms. Hennifer announced to the class. "There's five minutes left. Finish the problems you're working on. Oh, and Billy, please see me after class." Vapors of amusement floated around the room.

    When the room had emptied, I walked up to her. Ms. Hennifer hung a sign that said, "5 Minute Consultation," on the front of the door. She locked the door.

    The stern woman turned to me. "I called your name, yesterday, but you chose to ignore me, Billy. I know ye heard me. We need to talk about what ye did, last Thursday." Her voice creaked with disappointment.

    I knew I had overstepped a line between us, by sperming her panties. "I'm sorry, Ms. Hennifer. I shouldn't have spilled my cum into your underwear." I was truly repentant.

    "That was wrong, Billy, but ye did something fah worse." She waited for me consider my actions. When I couldn't offer an understanding, she explained. "Ye took control of me, without my permission. You used my trust against me. That is terrible thing, Billy." She was talking about how my blatant actions had caught her off-guard until I had deposited a hot load into her panties.

    "I-I didn't know, uh, please I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

    "I'm wary of your promises, Billy. After I punished you for your lack of empathy, ye promised that you would be good, but ye made me feel violated wit'out na care for my feelings. I canna rely on ye promises, at least not until ye build a record of good behav'n. The only thing I can rely on is the authority your mother gav me, to discipline your instincts."

    There was no escape from what she intended. "Yes, Mrs. Hennifer." I hung my head.

    "You will return to this room, after the last harpsong of the day. We'll work this out, fully, then." She dismissed me.

    I left the room, crestfallen. She intimidated me so much, I forgot that I had been planning to race to meet Mrs. Abbey after school! It was too late to beg her to discipline me another day. My last two classes dragged along like cement blocks tied to a snail.

    "Get into the spirit of Capoeira, Billy. These dances are an expression of striking out for freedom!" Mrs. Lum noticed my sluggish performance. I had wanted to ask her about my blood test after class, but I couldn't face her while dreading Ms. Hennifer. Mrs. Lum might quickly reject future attempts to rape her, if she discovered how afraid I was.

    My efforts at music and art were equally pitiful, but Darrin wasn't the kind of teacher who punctured a deflated spirit. "You'll do better tomorrow." He told the whole class.

    The school harp sang. I had to choose, being late to meet Mrs. Abbey, possibly with a burning bum, or infuriating Ms. Hennifer even more by escaping my deserved punishment.


    "Lock the door and come here, Billy." Mrs. Hennifer bade me when I slunk into her room. The curtains within had been drawn shut.

    The deadbolt's click made me wince, an expression I carried to my teacher. She surprised me by standing up from her chair and taking me into her arms.

    "There, there, my sweet child." She held me warmly. "You're lucky your mother gives the privilege of your corporeal punishment. I promised to use that privilege to make you a better man, and I will as best I can."

    "I'm sorry for what I did, Mrs. Hennifer. Why do you have to hurt me?"

    "I believe you're sorry, Billy." She stroked my hair. "But sorry and repentant are not the same." She released me with gentle pats down and around my back. "Neither are hurt and pain." She looked severe. "I would never hurt you, Billy. I will cause you pain, but you have to tell me why or the pain won't help you."

    "I don't understand."

    "What did I tell you after class?"

    "That I didn't have emthy."

    "You do have empathy, Billy. Everyone does, but too many don't know how important it is. I want you to use yours whenever possible. And last week, with me, you failed to respect my feelings by shocking me into a terrifying ordeal. I couldn't sleep that night, worrying you might have impregnated me."

    I knew what I should do then, as difficult as it was to admit. "I didn't care what happened to you, Ms. Hennifer. Please, help me to remember to care more." I turned to her desk, pulled my pants down and bent over." This time, I didn't take down my underwear.

    "You're going to grow up to be brave and wise." She told me. She fingered the waistband of my underwear. "You took this off the first time I punished you. You remember that blatant act infuriated me, and I disciplined you too hard. I shant this time, but I'll ask ye to pull it down. You don't have to, but I'll soothe you in a very special way if you take these off."

    I gulped. She wanted to spank my bare bottom. I was so worried about how much she would hurt me, I didn't even think about being soothed afterwards. I nodded and trembled as my hands pulled down my shorts. I decided it would be better to obey. Maybe she would lessen my punishment. She didn't.

    Her hand CRACKed across my naked butt before my hands returned to grab the edges of the desktop. "MNNN!" I squeaked. The impact swayed my soft pee pee and sack in the cool air.

    "That were to git your attention, Lad." Her hand paused. "I'm gone te warm you up with twenty, then I'll use sometin' I broot te save me hand." SWAT!

    I jumped at the first strike. "One." I remembered to count. Her hand hurt worse than last time, out of terror for what she would use across my bottom next. SWACK!

    "Ohhh!" I blurted. "T-two."

    SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! She struck both cheeks at the same time.

    "Owww!! ... Three, four, uh, five."

    Her hand then rained five more blows on the cheek nearest to her. I wailed, sniffed and counted. She hit my other cheek with five.

    When I counted, "Fifteen." She gave the last five across both. That was just my warm up. "Twenty." I sniffed and spilt tears. "Thank you, Ms. Hennifer, I'll use my emthy more."

    "Yes, child. Now look here."

    I saw her hand holding a flat wooden board by its curved grip.

    "I'm going to give you fifty with this, but not all at once. I need to monitor your feelings. So I don't get carried away like last time. She surprised me again by reaching down with her free hand and patting my soft cock and balls. My groin flinched. Three days of inaction had made my pee pee very sensitive. It jerked to life.

    SMASH! The board struck like a battering ram. I shouted, "AAAA!!!!" My mind went blank. I had never felt anything so devastating. I almost forgot to count. "One." I said weakly.

    "Good lad." SMASH!

    "Two." I squeaked after yelling again.

    SMASH!

    By the fifth smash, I could hardly see the room. Pinpricks of light swirled across my vision. "Five."

    SMASH! She didn't relent. My vision narrowed as darkness enveloped me. Each smash of the board sent sparks out of the darkness. I wailed and cried, and I prayed I counted correctly. "Ten."

    "That's as far as I can take you, for now." She sniffed. I looked at her. As my vision slightly recovered, I saw tears in her eyes. Just as I was about to ask, I felt her hand encircle my pee pee. It had grown fairly hard during my first ten from the board.

    A memory came to me. Each time the board struck fire into my ass, her other hand had gripped my penis and released it. Now it slowly rubbed, countering the awful pain in my behind with motes of pleasure.

    "There ye go, Lad. Let mean old Gloria giv ya a wee bit o peace." Her hand gave slow, soft strokes, until my dick became quite stiff.

    When she let go, I guessed what to expect.

    SMASH! "OOOHHHH!!" I had caught my breath at least. "E-eleven." I huffed. SMASH!!

    Somehow I managed to keep conscious, counting to twenty. I was eager for her soothing hand. It didn't come.

    SMASH! The twenty first strike shocked me so sharply my brain blanked. She pitied me then.

    "Count, Lad, or we'll start from one again." She promised.

    "Twenty one." I finally managed.

    SMASH! It was the hardest blow yet! My ass was fire, and it was gasoline. Pain exploded throughout my flesh. I screamed and screamed. "NOOOOO!!!" It took all my mental focus to add, "Twenty two." I slumped down expecting to faint.

    Ms. Hennifer's soft hand enveloped my penis. It had fallen soft again. She fondled it, taking her time. I guzzled the pleasure from it, anything to ease the burning blaze in my behind."

    "Good boy." She wept. This time she didn't stop when my penis hardened in her hand. She stroked it for at least a minute. The fire in my bottom cooled by less than one degree. Then she released me and swung her bat.

    SMASH!

    I don't remember those blows. I remember counting, but my mind escaped the pain. My body shuddered and roared, while all my thoughts focused on the lingering sensations of pleasure that faded faster with each smash of the board, until they and I disappeared.

    Ms. Hennifer woke me with a kiss. Her lips worked my cheek until I flinched from it. Her hand was already bringing life back to my crestfallen member. "I lost ye there for a minute."

    "I-I'm sorry, Ms. Hennifer. I didn't mean to lose count." There wouldn't be forgiveness for neglecting that. I resumed crying.

    "No, little one. You were wonderful. Only sixteen to go." Her hand felt even more kind, somehow. My erection returned, bringing better feelings than before against the ache coursing through my body.

    I had to subtract sixteen and twenty two from fifty. She had struck me another twelve times. The count was now at thirty four. Minutes passed as her hand worked my turgid shaft. My tears dried, but I continued to whimper.

    This time she warned me. "I'm going to give you eight, now, Billy. Try to keep up."

    "Yes, Ma-am." I managed.

    SMASH!

    SMASH!

    SMASH!

    SMASH"

    I cried out a number each time.

    SMASH!

    SMASH!

    SMASH!

    SMASH!

    "Forty two - Ooooooo." My breath was ragged. I wanted to leave the world again, but Ms. Hennifer's fingers kept me in reality.

    "You're a strong, young lad, Billy. If I didn't push you to the very edge, this wouldn't make you stronger. Corporeal punishment is the worst method of teaching. Only when it's coupled with unabated love, can it have any positive effect."

    "You're crying." I observed, unable to comprehend anything she said. My mind had once more fled to the beautiful sensations she imparted to my hard penis.

    She wiped her eyes. "Yes, Billy." Her loving hand released me suddenly.

    SMASH!

    "I love you, Billy." She cried.

    "Forty three!" I blurted and sobbed.

    SMASH!

    At fifty, I fainted again. I dreamed of running from a burning forest. The heat choked me. My limp peter and balls knocked my loins as I ran. Clouds swirled with heat, but unexpectedly burst with cool rain. I shivered, and my cock grew hard.

    "I'm so sorry, Billy." Ms. Hennifer shuddered, her cheeks red with tears. "Fifty was too much. I should have stopped."

    My eyes opened to the sight of her squeezing lotion into her hand. It wasn't for the first time. She sniffed and reached to my burning bottom, smoothing another cool layer of creme into my purple flesh. Her other hand, however, cupped my balls, applying lotion to them and my cock for the first time. Its hardness surprised both of us.

    "Billy!" She gasp. Her hand ran quickly up and down my staff. The smooth cream made it flinch - delight clashed with suffering. Her eyes ran with tears.

    I hardly knew what I was saying, but I remembered her promise. "I-I took down my shorts, Ms. Hennifer."

    "Yes, Billy, but I've wronged you again. I owe you more than the gift I had planned for letting me paddle your naked behind." She held up the lotion. "I bought this for today. It's edible, and I was going to bring you an orgasm with my mouth." She sobbed. "But I love spanking you so much, I lost control and made you suffer beyond reasonable punishment."

    Slowly, mind pieced together an exciting possibility. She wanted to repent for her mistake. She would happily suck my stiff peter and make me cum, but she felt that wouldn't be enough. I sensed she was in a very agreeable state, to accept something I proposed.

    The problem was, I needed to meet Mrs. Abbey as soon as I could trust my legs again.

  2. #32
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    Re: Shota Impregnator [F/m MILF mom shota incest underage happy]

    The ache in my rear foretold, I would be waiting a little while before I could walk to the house Mrs. Abbey was showing.

    Ms. Hennifer showed me what being repentant meant. Her face had fewer tears than mine, but anguish curled her body to where she nearly fell off her chair. The fire in my ass made me stand, if wobbly. After I frightened her with the cum I shot into her panties, I hadn't felt what she was feeling. Even now, my penis wanted to do it again!

    The lovely teacher's hand fell away from my erection when I moved close and hugged her. "Thank you, Ms. Hennifer." I could have shot my cum in her panties again, I believed.

    She returned my hug and sat more steadily on her chair. "I can't punish you any more, Billy, not ever." She drew back without pulling away. She was smiling. "I got carried away. I-I even orgasmed when you collapsed the second time. I'm a terrible teacher. I'll never punish you again."

    "No, Ms. Hennifer, you're a good teacher. I see what really repenting is now. I needed you to teach me."

    "I'm glad, Billy, but some people may truly repent and still do a bad thing again. I will get carried away, every time I spank you. Stopping is my only salvation." She poured more lotion on her hands and gingerly applied another cooling layer to my bruised behind.

    "It isn't, Ms. Hennifer, remember how my cum reminded you not to bully me? I'm going to cum on you, this time to remind you not to get carried away."

    She looked a little distraught. "Are you going to cum in my panties again?" She reinforced my belief that she would not stop me. My cock jerked enthusiastically at her.

    "I-I want to, Ma-am, but you taught me to repent." I drew a circle around her modest cleavage afforded by her conservative dress. "I'm going to cum here, Ms. Hennifer, and you will have to wear it, to remember."

    "But everyone will see." She mumbled, as if speaking to herself.

    Something about other teachers and maybe even her boyfriend seeing my cum on her chest made my pee pee very hard. It was desperate for release. "Now use your mouth, like you said you would, and make me cum, Ms. Hennifer."

    "Y-yes, Billy." She looked down at my quivering erection and frowned. "Thank you for letting your math teacher spank you on your naked bottom." She opened her mouth and sucked my lotion teased prick into her face.

    I groaned with fresh relief. My attention shifted needfully from my aching behind, to the love this woman's mouth and tongue worked into my hard penis. It felt wonderful!

    She continued to gently massage my burning cheeks with lotion while she bobbed her head and sucked.

    My hands touched with her golden red hair while she bent to relieve me orally. It was surprisingly coarse, not like the rough hairs between Mrs. Cherkle's or Mrs. Abbey's thighs, but it was thick and full. I imagined it free of the tight bun she had locked it in. Maybe it was so wild, she had to keep it tied up. I hoped she would never cut it. My hips found some strength to rock my prong between the teacher's sucking lips.

    Ms. Hennifer mewled as my pee pee slid into her mouth and backed out. Her hands kept slicking lotion, helping that pain to go away while she pleasured a very different ache in my body. I moaned happily. "You're making my peter feel so good, Ms. Hennifer!"

    "Mm mmm." She sounded happy. Her tongue slurped all over the head of my rutting knob. Her head bounced with perfect counter-rhythm to my slow humping.

    I hadn't cum in several days. My balls felt bound up, like the bun of hair on the woman sucking my tool for sending cum deep, but this time, I would cover a woman's chest with my seed, to remind her not to hurt me again. My anger surprised me then. Ms. Hennifer should have stopped spanking me sooner. I wanted to be sure she remembered.

    As my groin churned, feeling the signs of my orgasm, I reached in front of Ms. Hennifer and pulled at her blouse. I didn't pull very hard, but the top button popped off and her dress revealed the crests of her breasts. The vee between them doubled in length.

    "Blllyyy?" Ms. Hennifer worried into my thrusting peter, but she didn't stop.

    I'm going to cum, Ms. Hennifer, soon!" I wanted her to pleasure me for a lot longer, but my denied balls wouldn't wait. I felt them pulse, pouring its juice into the base of my prick, the seminal bulb. Her mouth sucked me faster and stronger. She wanted it as much as I.

    In her passion, she pulled her lotion greased hands from my arse and fiddled with the next button on her blouse. They were too slick to unbutton it!

    "OOOoooohhhh!!!" I hollered suddenly. My groin lurched and my dick sang!

    Ms. Hennifer pulled her face off of my prick. "Cum on me, Lad! Cause me ta remember!" She tugged her own dress apart, tearing the next button free. She leaned her head back and pulled her blouse wide, until the smallest corners of her dark pink nipples showed. She jutted her titties up to the head of my jerking cock, just in time for the explosion.

    "Oh, Ms. Hennifer!" I cried. My penis gushed out hot cum. It sprayed out across her chest and soaked the top of her breasts. Some even flew as high as her chin! I grabbed my dick and aimed it true, waving the pulsing stream across her titties. "I'm cumming on you!"

    "Yes, Billy! Get it all ore me chest. I won't wash it. I promise ere'one 'll see your reminder, Billy."

    The pulsing stream of thick goo slowed until small blobs ejected and impacted the teacher's breastbone. A final trickle of cum ran out the tip of my exhausted prick and coated my hand.

    Ms. Hennifer took my hand and wiped it on her blouse. "I won't forget, Billy." She smiled, hopeful that my cum help her overcome her fear of punishing me. What had I done?

    I was too wiped out to realize that would let her hurt me again. I only knew that I had to ejaculate on this lovely, repentant soul, and it was very good.

    I rested by sticking out my lotioned ass and laying my body across her desk. My head turned sideways, to watch the beautiful woman wearing my glistening seed.

    "I'll mend the buttons later, Billy." She smiled weakly. "This will let me keep my modesty until I reach home." Her hands drew the torn flaps of her blouse closed again and pressed them into my cum. Like glue it soaked them and made them cling to her chest. Her boobies had been very pretty to look at.

    I smiled.

    The flesh of her breastbone shined nearly halfway up her neck. The drip of cum that landed on her chin must have tickled, but she wiped one finger clean, on her dress, before swiping it off and sticking it into her mouth. "That edible lotion tastes okay, but I wanted ta taste yer cum for tis own flavor." She grinned as if it had tasted very good.

    We rested, and slowly the pain in my bottom eased. I did send an email on my watch, telling Mrs. Abbey that I would be late, but not by very much. Hardly half an hour had passed since I'd entered Ms. Hennifer's room.

    She got up and began to collect her things. "Don't worry, Lad, I'll stay until ya kin walk again. I'll even walk ya home if ya like."

    "That's okay, Ms. Hennifer." I winced, standing back to my feet. "It doesn't hurt too much, now." The pleasure her mouth had given lingered in my head and body. I dealt with my pants carefully until they were once more secure around my waist.

    She opened the door for me, and we walked down the hall together.

    Along the way, the door to room 223 opened and my English teacher, Ms. Shoona Laghari, emerged. "Oh, hello, Gloria." She smiled at first.

    Her smile darkened. "What did you spill on your dress? It even looks torn!"

    A great redness hid Ms. Hennifer's freckles, but she didn't waver. "Not anything that I regret, Shoona." My math teacher's smile shined brighter than the cum still glistening on her chest.

    "Billy? Don't forget to read the next chapter of My Side of the Mountain." Ms. Laghari left looking puzzled but somehow amused.

    "I won't, Ms. Laghari." I called after.

    Ms. Hennifer and I turned into the large entry hall at the center of the school, and almost bumped into Mrs. Lum!

    She deftly avoided our sudden appearance from hall number 2, with a move that looked like something in the dances she was teaching us.

    "Gloria! Excuse me?"

    "I should have been more aware, Caroline." Ms. Hennifer's smile continued to glow.

    I caught a strange glance from Mrs. Lum. Her eyes narrowed for a second. They brightened and refocused on my math teacher. "What did you spill, a milkshake?"

    "More like hot milk." She winked at me.

    Mrs. Lum noticed that too, but pretended to ignore it. "Um, well, good evening." She shuffled off with a dark curiosity on her face.

    At the main entrance, we separated. Ms. Hennifer headed for her car, and I walked as fast as I could in the direction provided by my watch.

    It took another half hour to reach the large house sitting among many, old houses on a street that had several potholes. Bits of plastic bags and old newspaper, and other trash clung to the base of most fences. Gasoline and diesel smoke tainted the air. The rush of highway traffic sounded upwind. The house itself was freshly painted, dusk red with gold trim. The short, wooden fence in front was bright white.

    Mrs. Abbey was waiting in front of the door. "There you are, Billy. Come inside." She opened it for me.

    I went through the picket fence gate and walked up. My bum was hurting again. I needed to rest, standing.

    "I knew this area was a little run down, but it looks worse than I expected." She mused. "It is a safe neighborhood. There hasn't been any gang activity since the city council enacted positive ways to employ and occupy the free time of young adults."

    "How much does it cost?" I looked inside before entering.

    "About twice what it cost when it was last sold." She smiled. "This neighborhood is going to be the next land rush." We went inside.

    "Can my Momma and Daddy buy it now that she has a new job?"

    "Your mother's working?" She lead me into the staged living room.

    "Un-huh." I nodded. "She makes dinners for rich people."

    "Is it safe?" She glanced at the couch.

    "I guess so, but she brings me to protect her." I kept standing.

    Mrs. Abbey smiled again. She had a nice smile. "Please, have a seat."

    "I'm gonna stand, Mrs. Abbey."

    I think she misunderstood. "Oh, of course, uh, Sir. You can call me, Charlotte, or Lottie, or whatever name you think I deserve." She sorta shrank. Her shoulders and chest caved inwards and she bent her knees and her waist, slightly. She looked at the floor.

    I got the feeling she was trying to play a game again. This time we didn't have a magic wand. My bum still hurt like my pockets were full of smoking coals. I wondered if I could just make up the rules.

  3. #33
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    Re: Shota Impregnator [F/m MILF mom shota incest underage happy]

    "You know, Mrs. Abbey, these old houses I walked past, coming here, some looked like they might be haunted." I looked around the freshly painted living room. The house was enormous. You could almost fit my apartment in the living room, and there was a second floor above. "What if this house is haunted?"

    "Why, Billy, there's no such thing!" She straightened. "Who would believe that?"

    "I'm telling you, Mrs. Abbey," I felt I should try to take charge. "This house might have a ghost. You have to show it all to me."

    She blinked. "Oh. Yes, of course, Sir." She nodded and let her eyes droop. "Please, come this way." She led me to the den, where I poked into the corners and looked under the furniture. Then we went into the kitchen. I spent a lot of time searching the cupboards, even the ones I had to open by standing on a chair.

    The utility room was small but had a modern washer and dryer and a sink for hand wash clothes. I entered the downstairs bathroom by myself and shut the door. "Don't be afraid, Mrs. Abbey. I'll be right out." I did use the toilet, but I looked into all the shelves and the cabinet under the sink.

    I walked out after washing my hands. "I didn't see a ghost." I pointed at the stairs. She led me up them. The bathroom above was larger and nicer. There were three large bedrooms, and an enormous master bedroom. I made a habit of looking into all of the closets. I even shut myself alone in the master bath's spacious shower.

    "I-is everything okay, Sir?" She continued to play a meek guide.

    "No, Charlotte." I decided to use her first name. I stared at her unassuming expression and pointed at the king sized, staging bed. "I think that's where the boy was murdered."

    "Billy!" The middle-aged woman broke her facade. "I looked at the records, searched a hundred years of newspapers. "Nobody died here, except for natural causes."

    "Shhh, Mrs. Abbey. This murder never made it to the papers. A young boy disappeared in the neighborhood, and nobody found him, but he was murdered in that bed. The murderer's dogs ate the boy, and his bones were ground into powder and spread across the yard."

    Charlotte clutched the top button of her blouse. "You're frightening me, Sir. It can't be. That bed was delivered by the rental service this morning. How do you know this?"

    "I can hear the boy whispering when the room is quiet. Shhh." I put my fingers to my lips and listened. I whispered, "He only trusts other small boys. It wasn't that bed, but the bed that used to be there." I had to amend my story.

    My tale did seem to trouble the woman. Was she pretending? It didn't matter, because I was pretending. I liked telling ghost stories. Daddy and I would try to frighten each other when the family went camping. Momma always pooh poohed, our ritual, saying, "Don't give each other nightmares." She would then head for her sleeping bag, I think, to avoid our scary stories.

    Daddy never really frightened me, and he always acted frightened of my stories. His were about dumb ghosts that did silly things like knock over soda cans or whistle fun music. My ghosts dripped with blood and sneaked up inside your body to devour your mind.

    "What should we do about the ghost, Billy?" Charlotte Abbey trembled slightly. She cast brief glances at the staged bed.

    "Stay here, Mrs. Abbey. I'm going to try to talk to it."

    "Will you be okay?"

    "I think so, but if something terrible happens to me run as fast as you can."

    "I will, Sir." She now stared at the bed.

    I approached it slowly, and reached for the cover. "He wants me to remove this weight on him." I pulled it off the bed.

    "Be careful, Sir. Don't provoke him."

    "He wants me to get under the sheet. So we can talk in private." I lifted the top sheet. There was only one covering the thick foam mattress. Nobody was suppose to use the bed. It was just for show. I pulled up one side of the sheet and crawled under it. I crawled to the middle of the vast bed until the sheet hid me." I had to remain on my hands and knees. I was still too sore to sit like an Indian.

    "I'm worried, Billy. Should you be alone in there?"

    "Shhh!!" I hissed. "I'm trying to listen."

    Repressing a snicker, I waited then. I could have used my watch to pass the time, but she might have seen or heard it through the single sheet.

    Finally, when I was tired of waiting. I gave an eerie moan. "Nooooo - Biiiilllyyyyy - You'll be killed, like I waaass."

    "What's happening?" Mrs. Abbey did sound frightened.

    I continued to draw out my vowels as I spoke like a ghost. "Pretty Lady, yoou are cuursed to neeever sell this houuuuse."

    "Billy, you sound so strange!"

    "Billy is sleeeping, Pretty Ladyyy. My name is Bobbbyyyy, and we are boooth currrsed!"

    "What did you do to my Billy? Let me talk to him!"

    "Heee cannot taalk to youuu, until our curse is liffffted."

    "I don't believe you, Bobby. I'm not cursed. I'm a good woman and a good mother."

    "It is not yourrr curse, but you have it. Long ago, a woman in your family, Charlene, invited me into her home, and she promised to do good things to me, but instead she killed me and fed me to her cats."

    "You told Billy, it was dogs!"

    Gulp! I forgot. "Billy didn't hear me very well."

    "H-how did you kn-know I had a great great Aunt Charlene?"

    A chill ran up my spine as I crouched under the one sheet. I thought I had made up that name.

    "I-I was named after my great great Aunt. You're saying she was a murderer and was cursed?"

    "She tooook me to herrr bed and pretended to kiss me. Then she cut my neck with a knife!"

    "No, it can't be true!"

    "With my dying breath, I cursed her to repent, or her and her family would always do what little boys told them."

    "I-I'm sorry, Bobby, I didn't know! But you're right. I never understood why I let Billy do all those nasty things to me."

    "Now, you must pay for her crime, or we will never be free."

    "Please, spirit of Bobby, be merciful. I don't care if you never lift your curse on me, but let poor Billy go. He is innocent!"

    "That cannot be done until the curse is lifted. Now do not move, and I will show you what you must do."

    "Can't you just tell me, Spirit? I'm afraid of you."

    "You will not see me, for I am a ghost. No matter what I do, you must not leave this room."

    "You mean, uh, you're invisible Bobby?"

    "Remember, Billy is sleeping, under this sheet. Whatever you see is a mirage, a phantom. Ignore it and anything it does to you, or else the curse and I will haunt you forever."

    "I-I understand, Spirit. I-I'll try, but you make me so afraid."

    "All the better to make you obey, Charlene." I told Mrs. Abbey. Then I crawled out from under the sheet.

    "What's happening?" She looked aghast at me.

    "I am a phantom, a fake image." I stood on the wooden floor and walked slowly up to Mrs. Abbey.

    "I c-can't see the real you, Bobby. You ARE a ghost!"

    "Yeeesssss." I reached out to her chest and began to unbutton her blouse.

    "What's happening? My buttons are slipping out of the holes on my blouse! Are you doing this, Spirit Bobby?"

    "Be quite Charlene, or I will have to punish you."

    "I-I'll obey, Bobby. I'm cursed to obey little boys."

    "Yessss." I stopped to undo the button of her business suit jacket, which I quickly pulled up and away from her arms. I let it drop.

    "Spirit! You took off my jacket and threw it on the floor. If you get it dirty, I won't be able to sell this house."

    "Shhhh, Charlene. I won't warn you again."

    Mrs. Abbey nodded and sniffed. She flinched when my arms came around her from behind and I unbuttoned the last of her blouse. I took my time opening it, to reveal her nice skin and bellybutton. She wore a frilled, pink bra with little flowers sown on them.

    I let the blouse drop on top of her jacket. "You were very bad to me, Charlene, leading me up here and taking me to your bed." I reached for the clasp on her suit pants and unfastened it. Then I unbuckled her belt.

    "Hmm mmm!" She wanted to speak but had to obey.

    "I thought you were so pretty, and you promised to do nice, secret things to me. But it wasn't nice at all when you cut my neck with a sharp knife."

    I pulled down her suit pants, all the way to her expensive flat slippers. "Don't move, Charlene, I want to look at you. You promised I could see you naked." I stepped back to look at the frightened, trembling woman wearing only a bra, panties, and pantyhose.

    I didn't like pantyhose. It was always a pain to remove. My story inspired me then. "Stay right there, Charlene. I'm just going to stare at you, invisible, until I get a good look." Instead of staring, I sneaked out the open door and went down the hall. I took the stairs and found what I was looking for in the kitchen. Then I quietly crept back up the stairs and peeked into the master bedroom.

    Mrs. Abbey sat on the bed, looking at her cell phone.

    I ducked back before crying out, "Charrrleeeene! I'm coming for you."

    I heard her leap from the bed and her feet thunk to a stop where she was told to stand.

    I slipped back into the room and approached her from behind. I kept the goodies in my hands behind my back. "You've been very bad, Charleeen, I saw you take your phone to the bed and disturb Billy's sleep. You better have a good reason, wicked woman."

    "Please, Spirit, forgive me. I've been working yesterday and all night to set up this house for showing. I got tired of standing."

    "Don't you think I got tired, bleeding into your bed for a hundred years!"

    "I'm sorry, Spirit. I am only a weak mortal!"

    "Sorry is not the same as repenting, Charlene. I will have to punish you." I took the sharp paring knife and poked the tip into the crack of her thighs, slicing through the control top hose. I ripped the knife up and sundered her nylon leggings."

    "BILLY! WHAT!" Her hands flew to the rip in her stockings.

    "SILENCE, SLUT!" I howled a loudly as I could. I pulled the knife away to prevent an accident but elbowed her hand. "Do not move, or you will suffer my fate."

    "That's a real knife, Billy. Someone could get hurt!" She turned to look at me with shock.

    I smiled and offered the knife hilt first to her. "Then you take it, Charlene. I'm sure you'll put it to better use than your Aunt of long ago."

    This mollified but disturbed her. "I-I don't dare, Spirit." Her eyes glazed over again, and she returned to the position she was suppose to stand in. I dropped the knife on top of her blouse and jacket. Beside them lay her suit pants. To reach the bed, she had stepped out of them.

    Momma taught me about using and sharing a knife safely the first time I started helping her cook. I kept the other goodie in my hand behind my back, while I ripped away her pantyhose until it was a shambles around her ankles.

    "I should cut off this strange thing around your breasts, Charlene. But I will let you remove it. So I can watch them open to me, like you promised."

    She reached behind her bra and began to unfasten the clasps. Two huge cups unleashed Mrs. Abbey's soft but large boobs. Their flesh fell down so far, even her nipples hung below their respective slings. She pulled the sturdy garment off of her arms and let it fall on the floor.

    She looked so sexy with her big boobs hanging low. Her nipples were wide and very dark. The centers were hard as walnuts and almost as big!

    "Do you forgive me, Spirit? I'll do whatever you want."

    "You have broken your promise, and until you are punished, our curses will never be lifted."

    "No, please, Spirit. I'll do anything to avoid being punished."

    "Too late, wicked Charlene. Now go to the bed and bend over. Billy is sleeping, but he will dream of you, while I give your discipline." I had given up trying to make sense with my story.

    "He mustn't know how wicked I am, Spirit, or he may want to punish me too!"

    "I hope he does, murderer's niece, or you may become as evil as your Aunt!"

    "That must never happen, Spirit! Please, help me lift my curse!" She bent over the bed and held her body up with her hands.

    "Then look away, and accept your punishment." That's when I pulled out the heavy meat cleaver, and lifted it above her trembling ass. "Don't look, but pull down your panties. So I can punish you properly.

    Mrs. Abbey complied by reaching back and pulling the stretch band back over her plump ass. She let go after pulling them to mid thigh. The smell of her sex wafted out, and my pee pee roused. Soon it would push out against my shorts, and I would have to release it. Before then, I planned to give a taste of what I received only an hour ago, to this sweet naughty lady.

    "Don't forget to count, Charlene."

    "I won't, Bil-Bobby!"

    Now a proper meat clever is rather dull. Momma taught me that when I had to cut ribs from a roast, to save us money. "So swing it carefully, and let its weight do the work." She told me.

    I swung the cleaver with practiced aim. The flat of the blade impacted Mrs. Abbey's ass with a sharp report, like a gun! For safety, I swung it with the blade side up!

    "AAAAAAA!!!!!" She shrieked. "What is that?"

    I had already lifted the heavy metal and struck another blow against her far cheek. CRACK!

    "AAAAAA!!! NO NO PLEASE, THAT HURTS SO MUCH!!"

    "You're not counting." I warned and swatted the metal rectangle across her pouting labia. It was mostly protected by her ass, but she shrieked satisfyingly. "One." I prompted.

    "OOOOHHH, No, let that be three, B-Bobby. I'll count, but I can't take many more of that."

    CRACK! The blade sang against her butt. "One." I said louder.

    "OOOOhhh, ONE! OKAY, please, please, take it easy on your slut, Sir."

    CRACK!

    "AAAAAAA- HHHH - HHHH - T-two." She gasped for breath.

    I had to stop to unclasp and unzip my pants. My dick pushed out in my underwear. It had gotten uncomfortably hard.

    "Please, Sir, uh, Bobby, I can't take that kind of tool. I would tell you my safeword, but we didn't decide one in advance."

    I didn't know what she was talking about, but I figured she had had time to recover from her first four blows.

    CRACK!

    "AAAAAA!! BOBBY IT HURTS!!!" She yelled. "Uh, th-three."

    I hit her ass with cleaver's flat steel three more times.

    "S-ss-ix." She could barely talk, as her breath failed her.

    I saw broad bruises forming. I didn't want to push her too far, like Ms. Hennifer had. What I wanted to do most was to make a baby in her wonderful, smelly pussy.

    I hadn't shot my cum into a woman's special place for over a week! I hastily freed my rampant cock from my underwear.

    CRACK!!!

    "OOOOOOWWWW!!!!" She wailed but counted. "Ssseven."

    CRACK! My arm was tiring, and I had never swung a cleaver with my off hand. It was a heavy thing. She didn't yell as loud.

    "Ehh-eight."

    I stopped at "Ten". My arm could barely hold the cleaver. I reached down and slid it under the bed. "That was just for starters." I told her.

    She huffed and puffed. "Hhh - Bobby - I-I can't take anymore." She pleaded between breaths.

    I reached between her purple thighs and pushed my hand into her vulva. It was wet and hot.

    "OOHH, YES, Bobby! Please make me feel good, after all that pain!"

    "You don't tell me what to do, Charlene." I pulled my fingers out of her sopping puss.

    "N-no, Sir. I'm sorry, Sir. Thank you for punishing me, to rid me of this curse."

    "Now you must give me what you promised, so long ago. Now turn over and open yourself. I'm going to take everything that you said you would give to me."

    "I-I want to, Bobby. But my bum is so sore, it'll hurt too much to lay on my back."

    "Billy told me you did it before, when you were his slut slave."

    "H-he didn't know- He apologized-"

    "Silence!" I slapped her raw ass with my hand. She yelped loudly! "Now turn over."

    "Y-yes. Sorry." She sounded very sorry, repentent even. She groaned continuously until her slow twist plopped her aching butt on the rumpled sheet. "NNnnnggghhh!"

    I crawled on the bed, between her thighs, pushing them apart with my knees. "Now tell me, Charlene, what did you promise the boy you murdered?"

    Her eyes twitched and spun. The pain in her arse disrupted their focus. "I-I don't know. It was my great great Aunt."

    "Think, Charlene. Listen. The curse will make you remember." I pinched the outer lips of her vagina.

    "OWWW!!"

    "Shhh." I hissed. "Listen."

    I reached forward and pinched both of her nipples.

    "Ngghh!!" She groaned. "Y-yes, Auntie, I can hear you!" She cried, pretending to hear her ancient Aunt's story.

    "Tell me, Charlene."

    "Oh, Bobby, I didn't know. She promised you everything!"

    "Tell me." I tweaked her nipples again.

    "She said you could kiss and hug her naked body."

    "What else?"

    "She said you could suck on her breasts and bite her nipples."

    "What else."

    "She- she said you could fuck her, Bobby. Oh, Bobby, I'm so sorry! But she lied! She was sick in her head, and she killed you to make her lust go away. She truly wanted you, but she believed that killing you would be the lesser evil!"

    "What else, Charlene." I pressed urgently.

    "She promised, Bobby, OH BOBBY, YOU WERE HER SON! She lied to the police, and said you went missing, but she killed you to keep you from-" Mrs. Abbey burst into tears!

    "What did she want most of all, Charlene?"

    "She wanted you to make a baby in her, Bobby!" The woman wailed. "Let me break the curse. I understand now! You can make a baby in me, with Billy's body. I want you to. Please, Bobby, that'll break the curse, won't it?"

    Hearing her capitulation, I couldn't wait another second! My body yearned to make a baby in Mrs. Abbey. I fisted my hardon and drove it into her wet puss. I lanced her inner hole, remembering exactly where it had been the last time. My hips thrust forward as hard as I could, driving all of my prick into her slot. The force pushed her punished ass across the bed.

    "OOOOOHHHH!!!" She wailed. "It's so sore, Bobby!"

    I began fucking the wailing woman as hard as I could. I hadn't had a woman like this since I raped Ms. Lum in the athletics storage room. "OOOoooo." I cooed. It felt like heaven.

    "Ow, ow, ow, ow." She grunted from the pain my thrusts scraped into her sore ass.

    I took her soft breasts into my hands and I pulled their large, dark nipples to my mouth. I bit and sucked, bit and sucked while my body pounded her widespread, trembling legs.

    Our situation was suddenly an out of body experience. I looked down, suddenly troubled by how our bodies battered and suffered. I had never acted so boldy or wickedly...

    I didn't understand. I liked Mrs. Abbey. Why was I hurting her? Had I suddenly become possessed by the spirit of a character I invented?

    "You're fucking me too hard, Bobby! OOWWW!!"

    "The cuurrrse! Don't forget the currrse!" I told her and kept bucking my prong through her wet pussy.

    "I remember. I do, but it hurts so much!" She wailed. "I can repent, Bobby, Billy, Sir! I will repent!"

    My balls lurched - fluid ready to spend. If I hadn't cum on Mrs. Hennifer's tits that afternoon, I would have blasted sperm up Charlotte's hole right then. "Good, Charlene, but not good enough!"

    "I beg you. Don't hurt me more."

    I watched myself bite into her upthrust nipple.

    "YAAAAAA!!" She shieked! "NOOO!!"

    My dick lurched within her hot body, as it dug at her juices which flowed out and soaked my sack slapping her taint.

    My teeth bit her other nipple, harder.

    "MASTER, I BEG YOU!" She screeched.

    Even hovering above the scene of our frantic, terrible actions, I could feel semen building pressure in my loins. It would unleash soon.

    "I have to get you ready for my cum, Charlene. If you don't totally repent by the time I fill your womb, our child will carry the curse!"

    "OH NO!, Not my baby to be!" She gasp with perfect sincerity. "Do what you must, Spirit. Tear at me until I cannot fail to repent!"

    My hands lifted from her chest and my body arched back, while my hip continued to thrust hard prick into the middle-aged woman's cunt. It felt unnatural, impossible! My hands rose and fell, slapping Mrs. Abbey's cheeks!

    Left! SMACK!

    Right! SMACK!

    Again and again, striking her faster until their rhythm matched our mating.

    "OW! I Repent!" She shouted between blows. "I- OW- swear it! I repent! OWW!"

    SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

    "Save me, Spirit!" She wailed. "Put a perfect child into my body, and find eternal peace!"

    SNAP! At the moment of sudden, intense release, I found myself looking once more out of my eyes. All I could see was her tears and bruises on her face. My cock lurched, punching deep into her puss, and cum gushed into the suffering woman.

    "You're cumming, Bobby! Oh my! You're cumming so much!" Her eyes blinked, and she looked into my eyes. "You're making a baby in me, Bobby. I know it!" She hugged me then. She had been using her hands and arms to ease the pressure of the bed rasping her battered buttocks while my hips pushed against hers. When she grasp me, Mrs. Abbey groaned. My cock pushed as hard as it could inside her cum welling slit.

    Cum issued slower into her. I felt drunk with pleasure and power, yet her sweet suffering face troubled me. "I-I'm Billy, Mrs. Abbey." I said quietly as the last of my sperm sought her womb.

    "Thank the stars!" The woman beneath me cried. "You're back, Billy." She turned us onto our sides. "Hold me, Sweetie. Are you okay?" Our bodies remained connected by our sexes.

    "I'm making a baby with you." I acted surprised.

    "You were possessed, Billy, by the ghost of a wronged spirit."

    "It was Bobby, wasn't it?"

    "Yes. He hurt me, Billy, but I saved him because of it."

    "I'm sorry, Mrs. Abbey. I don't like hurting you."

    "It's okay." She shushed me and kissed my lips. "It's over. I will recover, in time. I'll always love how you let me help the spirit."

    "And for making a baby in you?"

    "Even more for giving me a child." Her hug grew warmer.

    I knew, unless it was the right time, making babies isn't possible, no matter how much cum I shot. But it was fun to make believe. I didn't know if it was or wasn't Mrs. Abbey's time, but she was okay about it, clearly, and that was the important thing.

    While we rested, cum still seeping into the rented bed, I told her. "It's really amazing, that you had a great great aunt named Charlene."

    She smirked a little at that and looked away. Had she made that part up?

    Eventually we separated, our bottoms slightly recovered. We showered together, but she surprised me by cupping her hand against her puss. To keep my cum inside her, she said.

    I dressed, and she produced a fresh shirt and slacks, as if she knew her clothes would be ruined. We parted with a kiss and a promise to meet again, on Sunday, when her daughter would be there.

    I wasn't too happy about that, but I liked her enough to visit the house for sale, while she was close, even if her daughter's presence would prevent us from making babies again.

    Halfway between the house she was selling and my parent's apartment, I realized Mrs. Abbey hadn't orgasmed. At least, I was pretty sure she hadn't. I texted her about it.

    "A slut slave should never cum, unless her master tells her to." She reminded me. My soft pee pee twitched nearly back to life at the thought.

    ***

    "How was Mrs. Abbey?" Mother welcomed me with a smile and a hug. The house smelled wonderful!

    "We had fun, Momma! What are you making?" I sniffed the air and nearly drooled.

    "I'm practicing the Ukrainian dinner I'm going to make for Mr. Gorgev. I even got a few tips from Ms. Velakowski. She told me how I could order rye grain from her birth country, two day shipping. It arrived this afternoon."

    "Can I help to make it, Momma?"

    She frowned. "No, Billy. You're too late." She beamed suddenly. "You have to help me eat it!"

    I jumped for joy, once and grunted from the pain that shot through my bum.

    "What's wrong?"

    I pouted but told the truth. "It was Mrs. Hennifer, Momma. She taught me about repenting."

    "Are you sorry Momma gave your math teacher permission to instruct you however she deems best?"

    I nodded.

    "Did she keep her word to be loving?"

    "Yes, Momma."

    "You're a fine young man, for telling the truth. If that's the case, then whatever happens is hers and your business. I'll always be ready, if you think I should intervene. I promise that, Billy."

    "I know." I hugged her. I had started crying and didn't want her to see.

    She kept hugging me back until I released her. Then we ate her amazing, Ukrainian meal!

    ***

    Daddy came home very late. Mother and I climbed into our separate beds while he ate leftovers. I had already studied everything I needed to, for school.

    When he did go to their room. I crept out of my bed and listened at the door.

    "It was scrumptious, Faun."

    "I don't suppose you have enough energy for a course of nasty dessert."

    "I'll do my best, Honey."

    "I know you would, my love, but I'd be sad if it ended in frustration again. Uh, I-I didn't mean to say it like that, Glen." Mother recanted.

    "You have the right, my love. I'll quit my job tomorrow if you want."

    "I won't let a little sexual disfunction ruin our future. Please, don't mind me and my crazy needs. We'll get through this."

    "You have my love, no matter what you need, Faun. If I can't give it,-"

    "Shhh, we've already said too much, and you know about the size of ears on little pitchers."

    "I'd be listening too, if you were my Momma."

    There was a pause, a long one.

    "I'm sorry, Faun."

    "That wasn't funny, Glen. I'm only one person's Momma in our family." She sounded so serious and angry, I crept back to my bed.

    I woke up after Father had left for work. Momma was warming up the last of last night's meal.

    I pondered what to do on this fine Wednesday.

    "Remember, Billy, I'm picking you up after school. We have to make dinner for Mr. and Ms. Kampold." She sang out.

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    Re: Shota Impregnator [F/m MILF mom shota incest underage happy]

    "Okay, Momma." I got up, showered, and dressed before standing at the kitchen counter. My bum was still sore, but that pain took a back seat to the worry I felt watching her eat. She looked a little sad. I took my time with breakfast: beet soup, sausages, and yesterday's rye bread. The bread was a little strong tasting for my liking, but it added a nice tang to the sausages.

    She beat me to the question, "Are you okay? You usually eat as fast as you run out the door. I mean, I'm grateful you like school so much, but it's nice to have you to myself."

    "You mean I can stay home?" I bubbled.

    "No." She smirked.

    "I'm sorry Daddy works so hard, Momma."

    "Me too, but I love your father very much, and no matter how often you listen at our door, you'll never hear differently." Her smirk grew.

    "Uh, I guess I shouldn't be late." I finished chewing and went to grab my backpack.

    "I love you, Billy."

    "I love you, Momma. Bye. See you when I get out of school." I darted down the stairs, expecting to see Mrs. Cherkle sweeping, but the entry way was empty. I made a u-turn and went to her door. I should probably remind her. I knocked.

    Mr. Cherkle answered. "Good morning, Billy." He seemed surprised but neither happy nor unhappy. "What are you here for?" Before I could answer, Mrs. Cherkle appeared beside him.

    "Do come in, Billy."

    "I'm in a hurry, Mrs. Cherkle. I wanted to remind you about asking my mom."

    "Oh, yes. I plan to visit her soon. There's a lot to discuss."

    I guessed she meant lady talk, dresses and cleaning and shopping.

    "Colleen, what's this about?"

    "We will be looking after Billy, tomorrow evening."

    "Oh."

    "I'll bake a fresh batch of cookies."

    "Thanks, Mrs. Cherkle! Bye!" I ran out of the apartment building and down the street.

    I arrived with five minutes to spare. My exciting morning gave way to another day at school. History, science, math. When Ms. Hennifer helped me with a problem in my workbook, she patted my knee. "How be you feeling?"

    "Sore."

    "I'm sorry. I truly am." She pulled a handkerchief from her pocket, with crusty yellowish stains. "I wiped myself with this last night, and I'm keeping it in my pocket to remind me."

    For a brief moment, I wanted to add more cum to her reminder. I was sore two ways, including being sore at her. But I hadn't acted much better, yesterday afternoon playing a vengeful ghost that hurt Mrs. Abbey too much. Ms. Hennifer moved on the next student who needed help.

    At lunch, James sat with me. He didn't say much but acted happy for company. He turned away when Steve appeared looking upset.

    "Mom wants you to visit, when the social worker checks on us, next week."

    "Steve, if you don't want me to. I-"

    "I don't, but if you don't come, Mom will get on my case about it."

    "What day?"

    "Tuesday."

    "I'll let my mom know." I tapped the date into my watch.

    He sneered and wandered off. "I hate having to be seen with two losers, yuck."

    "Why go to his house? Won't he just rag on you?" James asked when our nemesis had reached a safe distance.

    "Maybe, but the social worker and his mom want me there." It wasn't James business, but I found myself telling him. "I like his mom."

    "Huh. What's there to like?"

    "She taught me a neat game, last time. I didn't think I'd want to play it again, but it might be a fun thing to do every now and then."

    "Could you teach it to me?"

    "I guess so, but it might hurt because you're so big." I was of course, talking about his considerable penis size.

    "I hate being fat." He was done with his lunch. So he simply got up with his tray and left before I could clarify what I'd meant.

    English class was very strange that day. Ms. Laghari kept giving me incredulous looks. She didn't say anything. When I asked for her help on the essay she had assigned, she answered succinctly and shuffled quickly to the next student. It felt like two hours had passed before her class ended.

    Even upon exiting, Ms. Laghari simply shook her head at me. At least I had P.E. and Mrs. Lum to look forward to. I hurried to her office to catch her before class began.

    "Billy! What on earth-?" She pulled me inside and shut the door. "Sit down! You have some explaining to do."

    "Huh?" I just wanted to hear if she got my blood test results. What was this?

    "Are you having sex with Ms. Hennifer?"

    Oh, that's right. She saw us, yesterday, when my cum was plastered across the math teacher's chest.

    Mrs. Lum looked very concerned. "Well?"

    "Sorta, I guess. We don't make babies or anything like that."

    "Then it was your semen on her chest, yesterday."

    "She wanted a reminder." I tried. She was starting to annoy me. What business of it was hers?

    "Reminder of what, for stars sake?"

    Her questions were making me a little mad. I remembered what Momma had told me. "As long as she and I are okay with it, that's our business. You don't need to know, and I don't want to tell you."

    Mrs. Lum's mouth opened, but she didn't say anything.

    She shut it. After a few seconds, she explained. "I have to be sure Ms. Hennifer didn't pressure you to do that to her."

    "She didn't."

    "Billy, I'm sorry. I do believe you, but I can't help but worry about it. Adult-child sexual relations are too often one-sided and abusive."

    "I made babies into you." I said, but it's not like she didn't remember.

    "You did, and I wish I could laugh at the fact. If we hadn't had intercourse, I wouldn't believe you."

    The class harp sang.

    "We'll talk more about this, but I promise not to trouble Ms. Hennifer or anyone else, until we have." She pulled out her stopwatch and clipboard and went to the door. She opened it for me.

    "Mrs. Lum," I asked walking past her. "What happened about my blood test?"

    "Oh, that. You're a very healthy boy, Billy. But I'm going to try my best to make sure you stay that way." We walked together to the school grounds. She added. "I had myself tested at the same time. You'll need to use condoms whenever you rape me. I don't have any symptoms, but the test for herpes shows that I was exposed to it at some point in my life."

    "Is that bad?"

    "Not as bad as some, but bad enough. Stay healthy and safe, no matter how much you desire something risky."

    James teased me during class for arriving late with the teacher.

    Mrs. Lum had the class do conditioning exercises for the entire hour. I never felt less in condition.

    I hardly had breath to play the flute in music and art. The pencil wobbled in my hand.

    School had held such great promise that morning. By the time I shuffled out to meet Momma, I was disheartened that it was only Wednesday.

    Ms. Velakowski waited in her cab across the street. She could use the bus stop, as long as a bus didn't come along. She opened the door for me. Mother was as beautiful as ever in her blue dress.

    "You've become quite the social butterfly, Billy." Momma teased. "Mrs. Cherkle said you'd like to visit her tomorrow, after school."

    Tanya Velakowski got in her seat and started the car. It smelled of fresh tomato soup.

    Momma continued. "Don't you want to help me make dinner for Mr. Gorgev?"

    "I do if you need me, Momma, but you said it would be easy to serve just one person."

    "I know. Did you consider I might need your company more than your help?"

    "Aw, Mom. Mrs. Cherkle would be okay if I went with you."

    "That's not the enthusiastic company I was looking forward to."

    Tanya called back to us with a hearty laugh, "The young son has an older girlfriend?"

    "They aren't girls. They're adults!" And they didn't feel like girlfriends, not like Jacqueline had. I was still a little put off from my weird day at school. It let my sadness about losing her creep back.

    "With such authority in his voice, how do you manage your son, Ms. Androni?"

    "Sometimes it is hard to refuse him, but we manage." Momma reached an arm around me for a hug. "Spend tomorrow however it suits you, Billy. At least I have you to myself tonight."

    I hugged her back.

    After a long drive in slow traffic we reached an area of the city called Harper's Grove. It was a residential section but the houses were just as fancy looking as the buildings on Central Heights.

    Tanya pulled over and stopped next to a lot with green grass and the strangest house. It looked like it had been built by cramming together three big, white cubes, one rising above the other two that intersected each other. The front cube had huge windows. We could see Ms. and Mr. Kampold sitting in that aquarium of a room.

    Mother peered at it but didn't delay. She got her fixings from the trunk, with Tanya's help. Then we walked up the flat stone path to their door. Momma let me ring the doorbell.

    Mr. Kampold opened the door. He was full of smiles, until he saw me. Suddenly bewildered, he asked Momma "You brought your son?"

    "Billy is part of the contract, Mr. Kampold. Did you make the appointment?"

    "Susan made it. I-I thought we would have you to ourselves."

    Mother thought carefully, to respond politely. She would never abandon me.

    "Grant, I forgot to tell you." Ms. Kampold floated up to the entrance. "The only way to hire Ms. Androni is with her son present. Judith Amberwilk claimed he is a great help to her."

    Mr. Kampold quieted but visibly struggled to hide frustration. He offered a hand. "My mistake, Ms. Androni. You're very welcome, you and your son."

    "Please, call me Faun." She shook his hand, and we entered the artistic house of cubes.

    Ms. Kampold greeted Momma with a hug. Then she gave me one. "Don't mind my husband, Billy. I have him wrapped around my little finger."

    "I want to congratulate you both for your fifteenth wedding anniversary." Momma produced a bottle of wine. This is my personal gift to you.

    "It's lovely." Susan took the bottle and showed the label to her husband.

    He turned his nose up at it.

    "Behave, Grant." The smiling woman nearly growled.

    "Yes, Dear." He glanced at Momma. "Thank you. Perhaps you'll share it with us."

    "Not before I turn your tummies into pools of celebration!"

    We went to work. Thankfully the artistic house had a somewhat normal kitchen. Mother and I danced in perfect timing, at our various tasks. The Kampolds had requested an American dinner, simple but abundant. Mother let me toss a salad while she grilled two, thick rib-eye steaks, roasted a tray of red potatoes with chives, thyme, and butter. She warmed a pot of pre-prepared tomato soup, and lightly sautéed a pan of cauliflower and broccoli in a delicate cream sauce. I chopped the vegetables and scrubbed the potatoes, while mother made the cobbler. After it and the potatoes had cooked for half an hour, she started sautéing. Ten minutes before everything else finished, she grilled the steaks red but not bloody. I set the table.

    "Let me help you with that."

    "Let the boy do his work, Susan. You and I are suppose to be celebrating." Grant Kampold objected. He sat in the living room, unable to see his wife with me in the dining area.

    "We've been supposedly celebrating for the last two, weeks, Dear." Susan coughed. "Here, I'll do the spoons."

    "I don't know, Ms. Kampold." I looked at her. "I don't want to make Mr. Kampold mad."

    She winked at me and whispered, "Well, I do. He's been nothing but a fusspot, since we started our vacation."

    "Why?" I carefully adjusted the salad fork I had placed.

    "Oh, adult reasons, I told him not to get tested before our anniversary. He felt it was his duty."

    "Tested, you mean like for sex transmitted infections?"

    "What? You know that much? My, my! I'm apologize for speaking down to you." She blinked at me. "But no, he got his, um, sperm tested." She frowned then. I guessed they must have failed.

    "Is he okay?" I was actually curious. If my cum couldn't pass a test, I would be cranky too.

    She sidestepped, "We thought it was my plumbing, uh, sorry, my fallopian tubes."

    "Those are between your ovaries and your uterus." I said proudly. "That's where a sperm and egg meet."

    "Goodness, does your mother teach you such things?"

    "I read some books Momma and Daddy gave to me."

    "Good for them!" She smiled.

    "What about your fall open tubes?"

    She chuckled at that before explaining. "The doctor said they might be slightly narrower than usual. Grant jumped on that, and ignored the doctor's assurance they were most certainly wide enough for the task."

    "What did the doctor say about his cum?" I intended to say, "sperm," but I slipped having said and thought, "cum," a lot recently.

    "Well, that's private, Billy." She said it pleasantly.

    "I'm sorry."

    She heaved a breath and unexpectedly confessed. "We were hoping for our first child during our honeymoon. We've been planning and preparing for years. Finally our work schedules and finances are ready." She might have said more, but Momma's voice announced, "Soup and salad will be served together."

    I had to scurry back to help carry them.

    The couple ate their first courses, making occasional smalltalk, often complimenting the dishes.

    "Your dressing is excellent, Faun!"

    "Thank you, Mr. Kampold." She answered from the kitchen where we waited.

    "Please, call me Grant. Come out here, and let me thank you proper."

    Mother went to stand beside his chair. I peeked around the corner, from the kitchen.

    He took her hand and looked into her eyes. "I am smitten by the flavor you gave to this food."

    Momma's slight sway while standing, stilled. She kept her smile but glanced at his wife.

    "Susan and I have an understanding." He told her softly. "She could look after your son, while you and I stimulate my appetite before dessert is served."

    My face grew red, and my heart thudded angrily.

    Ms. Kampold sighed. A light smirk crossed her face, aimed at her husband.

    "You're very beautiful, and that dress is incredible!" Her husband added.

    "Thank you, Mr. Kampold, for the offer. I'm serious when I say I am not at all offended. In fact, you're very kind, but I must decline. I hope you and your wife enjoy many adventures with others. There are jealousies you are no doubt familiar with, which I have to prevent, and I ask you to be extra kind to understand.

    "Oh." Mr. Kampold coughed. "Yes. Of course."

    I heard the barest giggle from Ms. Kampold.

    "However, please allow me to satisfy your current appetites." Mother grinned. She returned to me. "You serve Ms. Kampold." She pointed at the heated plates on the kitchen counter, loaded with steak, potatoes, and vegetables.

    I'm not sure what I would have done, if she had asked me to serve Mr. Kampold. How dare he be rude to my momma!

    "Before they cool, Billy." Momma had to prompt me. She lead with Mr. Kampold's plate. She set it before him gracefully and returned to the kitchen area.

    I was careful not spill Ms. Kampold's plate. She thanked me. I couldn't help but whisper to her, "If it's still your anniversary, Ms. Kampold, I can give you what your husband can't."

    Susan Kampold didn't eat much, at first.

    "Is something wrong with your steak, Dear?"

    She shook her head from the daze she had appeared to be in. "It's delicious, Grant. I'm savoring it." She took her time cutting another bite.

    After slow samples of each dish, Ms. Kampold straightened sharply and enjoined her meal with relish. "It's fabulous, really." She gave her husband a strange grin. She cleaned her plate before he was two thirds finished.

    Getting up, she took her plate and utensils to the kitchen.

    "Please, Susan, we should get those." Momma offered.

    Ms. Kampold let her take the used service ware, but followed her to the sink. I accompanied them.

    "I must have your recipe for the cream sauce. I've never tasted anything so delicious. I'll pay extra."

    "It would be my pleasure to share." Momma told her.

    "Thank you, but before you write it down, allow me to apologize for my husband's behavior."

    "Is what he said about you not true."

    "It's true. We are occasional swingers, but I hadn't suspected he would make a move on you."

    "Honestly, Susan, I'm new at this, and I am expecting much worse possibilities. I found his request rather amusing, actually."

    "Huh." She sighed. "That is a relief, but would you be willing to help me play a small prank on my husband?"

    "Getting involved in my client's relationships isn't wise. Wouldn't you agree?"

    "I suppose, but in this case, you wouldn't have to do anything at all."

    "I don't understand."

    Ms. Kampold grinned at me. "I just want to take Billy into our bedroom, just long enough to watch a television show. He can pick the show."

    Mother's eyes suddenly sparkled at the notion. Strange gears whirred in her mind, and a grin I recognized, from odd moments since our train ride, spread across her face. It was the grin she gave only to me, when she suspected I had been up to some mischief with a woman.

    Wow. I thought about being alone with the pretty but slightly plump Ms. Kampold. Had my offer been accepted?

    "That was a fabulous meal, Faun, but Grant and I need time to get ready for dessert, which smells wonderful, by the way."

    Momma looked at me. I don't think she worried about me being alone with Ms. Kampold. Possibly she worried about being alone with Mr. Kampold. I didn't like that idea either, but I wouldn't be far, and with luck I might get a little revenge on the bad man who was rude to Momma.

    "I'll just be in the other room, Momma." I assured her.

    Her laugh tinkled. "I'll be okay, Billy."

    "What are you talking about in there?" Mr. Kampold asked from the dining area.

    His wife answered, "Just desserts, Sweetheart."

    "I don't know. I may have to wait for a while. That was the best steak and potatoes dinner I've eaten, outside of a three star restaurant."

    "Me too, which is why I invited Billy to watch TV in our room, until our appetites are once more stimulated."

    Her reference to his recent words must have struck Mr. Kampold like strong coffee. "Oh, you'll be in the bedroom! I see. I would be happy to entertain Faun while you watch television. You're welcome to watch a whole movie, if you like."

    My anger got the best of me. I took Ms. Kampold's hand and asked her bluntly. "Where's your room?"

    Momma and Susan flinched at my sharp question. Ms. Kampold gave Momma a surprised look.

    "When he's like this,..." Mother began. "What can you do?"

    "I-it's the last one down the hall."

    "Is it still your anniversary?" I asked while leading Ms. Kampold out of the kitchen.

    "We're still celebrating it." She acknowledged timidly.

    We reached the end of the hall, and I opened the door. She let me take her into their bedroom. "We're just going to watch television, right Billy?"

    I looked around the oddly shaped but sparsely decorated room. There were a couple plants and three small, framed pictures on two walls. A television hung on the wall opposite the king sized bed with six pillows. The entrance to the master bath was open. I let go of Ms. Kampold's hand and shut the main door behind us.

    I had fumed the entire, short distance. But when the door closed, and we were alone. My anger drained. I looked up at the pretty, Ms. Kampold. Now what? My bluster sank back to neutral.

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    Re: Shota Impregnator [F/m MILF mom shota incest underage happy]

    Ms. Kampold looked as uncertain as I suddenly felt. "I'm not sure this prank was a good idea. It sounded better when I thought of it."

    "I didn't like what Mr. Kampold said to Momma. So I wanted to prank him."

    "He's not the wisest of men, and he has been avoiding his feelings regarding his potency test. I just wanted your mother to know that I had her back, but I guess you're better at protecting her, given how you dragged me in here. For a moment, I thought you might-" She went to a nightstand and grabbed a remote.

    "I'm sorry, Mrs. Kampold. I wouldn't do anything without your cuntscent."

    Her drab expression exploded. "Excuse me?"

    "Did I say it wrong? My P.E. teacher told me that word, and how it would be rape if one the people making babies didn't give their cuntscent."

    A laugh burst from her, changing Ms. Kampold's shock to amusement. "No no no, it's pronounced, 'con-sent', Billy." She switched the TV on. "What do you want to watch?"

    "Con-sent. Huh. Okay." A news woman at her desk expanded across the giant screen. One of the Kampolds must have been watching her earlier. Distracted by the image, I answered. "I don't know. We don't have TV at home, just shows with ads on the internet."

    The anchor spoke, "A settlement has been reached between two railway workers and Amtrak. The story broke yesterday, when a legal assistant leaked mediation documents to the press. Apparently, the women were coerced by an executive into sexual relationships, both which resulted in pregnancy." Employment pictures of the women in their work outfits, conductor and cafe car attendent, were thrown out to fill the screen."

    I gaped for a whole second before exclaiming, "It's Jacqueline and Tara!" I pointed.

    "You know those women?" Ms. Kampold sounded skeptical.

    "She was my girlfriend!" I pointed at Jacqueline. "She's really nice and let me also make babies in her friend, Tara!" My finger angled to the cafe attendent.

    The new anchor continued. "City news has uncovered the defendant, a Mr. William Stoneburger, but we were unable to reach him for comment. The agreement, settled overnight after the story leaked, requires Mr. Stoneburger to pay for all expenses for rearing the children, including the finest university education and the best medical care. Also City News has learned that he has resigned from Amtrak."

    "Momma and I came to the city on that train, and I had a lot of fun with them." I beamed.

    "The strange twist in this story is, neither of the women pursued compensation for personal damages from sexual coercion by a superior, the most common reward sought in such accusations."

    "What does that mean?" I frowned.

    "They could have asked for a lot of money from Amtrak. Their case may not have been strong enough. So they asked for something that could be easily defended, if not by a court of law but the court of public opinion.

    "Mr. Stoneburger was a bad man. He made my girlfriend sad." My frown turned to a pout.

    "Billy, I just can't believe your story. Mr. Stoneburger seems to have accepted his guilt."

    "And now we go to an interview conducted this morning by City News' own, Roberta Green." The TV picture changed to a video of another woman with a microphone asking Jacqueline and Tara questions.

    "Hello, city! I managed to cache Ms. Jacqueline Simmons and Ms. Tara Wells off-duty, while their train was preparing for its return trip."

    My girlfriend and sex friend, bubbling with cheer, interrupted the reporter. "We LOVE you, Billy! We had these T's made just for you!" They wore complementing, pink and sky blue shirts, Each were printed with a fetus outline at their tummies. A speech balloon printed across their sexy chests pointed to the outline. The balloon said, "Billy made me!"

    The reporter smiled, "That's really rubbing it in, Ladies. I can only imagine how greatly Mr. Stoneburger deserves such public humiliation. I can't speak for the city, but your hilarious sarcasm has made you my personal heroes."

    Jacqueline and Tara looked at each other, enthusiasm draining. Jacqueline, cleared her throat and told the reporter, "Actually, we should thank him for agreeing to provide for our children's futures."

    Tara echoed her friend, "He deserved to be fired, but he proved to be honorable regarding our circumstances."

    The reporter turned to the camera. "There you have it, an odd end to an odd sexual harassment case. These victims were able to rise above their ordeal to grant their abuser a modicum of gratitude."

    Behind the reporter, Jacqueline and Tara jumped and waved, "We miss you, Billy!"

    "Back to you, Madeline."

    "Thank you, Roberta."

    I heard a click behind me and the TV went dark. I could see Ms. Kampold in its reflection. She dropped the remote. "Th-that can't be."

    I turned to her.

    She pointed at me. "Why would both of them keep a fetus from coerced sex? The great majority of America supports a woman's right to choose, especially in the case of unwanted impregnation."

    "We had consent when I made babies with them." I used the word proudly.

    "Y-you're really the father?"

    "I guess so. That's what happens when you make babies. Well, not always, but trying sure is fun!"

    Slowly, Ms. Kampold sank to her knees on a Turkish carpet. She put her hands over her mouth, to cover its incredulous gape. She spoke through her fingers. "You were serious when you said you could give me what Grant can't."

    "Uh-huh." I nodded. She looked kinda sexy now that she wasn't taller than me.

    Her hands fell to her kneeling lap. Her eyes had tears in them. "I've wanted to be a mother for so long! Grant kept putting it off, always with some excuse about our finances or our availability to be parents. If he hadn't finally agreed to conceive with me, I would have divorced him. I would have become a single mother, despite the incredible difficulties of that option."

    She wiped her eyes and pleaded. "Please, Billy, would you make a baby in me?"

    "Ohh, Ms. Kampold, now?" I didn't want to stay away from Momma too long.

    She nodded. "I ovulated two days ago, just before we returned home. Now is still a good time for me to conceive, if I had sperm worthy of the task." She spoke the last part with bitterness.

    My pee pee hardened at the thought of giving this pretty lady a baby. Knowing that I would avenge her husband's rudeness made it even harder. "Okay, but Momma is alone with Mr. Kampold. What if she needs me?"

    If Ms. Kampold's plea had been a momentary lapse, this was her chance to back away from it. Her eyes steeled with resolve. "We'll be quick." She nearly leaped back up to her feet. Standing, she hoisted the hem of her skirt to her waist and bent over the bed. Her pantied rear pointed its availability at me. With her skirt dangling from her middle and pooled on the bed beneath her, she reached back and tore apart her pantyhose and dug her fingers into her sexy, gold panties. With a fierce tug, she pulled both over and down her ass and thighs. "Please, Billy. A quick fuck isn't very sexy, but I hope you'll make a baby in me, if you can." She let go of her underwear to push herself up from the bed. Her naked, full behind waited for me, twitching. She spread her legs to make room.

    I'd never experience such begging. My erection tried to tear through my underwear and trousers.

    "Ms. Kampold, I think you're really sexy!" I wanted to rush and rip my pants open, but I couldn't do that to the pants Momma bought special for me to work with her.

    "Please, Billy, I need to have a baby in me!" She sounded like she was crying again. All I could see was her dark brown bush and the tan pout of her labia. Her legs and ass trembled.

    I managed to open the fly of my pants without tearing anything. I scooted up behind Ms. Kampold's naked, outstretched bottom and fished my rock hard prick out through my undershorts's opening. I wanted to slap her ass that quivered with guilt and need, but we had to hurry. I did feel her puss, seeking out what waited for me. It wasn't as wet as the vaginas I had made babies in. I didn't want to hurt her or myself.

    "Not your finger, Billy." She worried.

    "But you're not wet enough."

    "I-I didn't think of that. I know better, too. Use your spit, Billy. Spit in your hand, and rub your little cock with it. I'll do the same." I heard her spit.

    "Little?" The word bounced off of me. From my experience showing after P.E., I knew I was bigger than many of the other boys. I spit into my hand and rubbed it into my hard shaft. I saw some of the woman's fingers pushing wads of spit into her pussy.

    "Try it now, Billy, with your cock."

    I slotted my bulging head into her plump lips and wriggled it to find the inner opening. She was plenty wet now. Familiar with the feeling of my prick against a vagina's entrance, once I discovered it, I pushed. A passion engorged tip spread and sank into her spit-lubed nest. The shaft sporting the head penetrating her, filled her.

    "AHH! Billy, I'm sorry I called it 'little!'" She said after her initial, "Ooff!" She contined, "And it's so hard. Certainly harder than- Oh fuck me, Billy." She interrupted herself. "I need it to make a baby tonight!"

    We both pulled away and humped back, at the same time. That felt amazing. "Wow, Ms. Kampold!" I gasped and fell forward, my boy's weight smashing her clothed tits against the beadspread as I thrust my hips forward to slide again into her cunt like a driving piston.

    My mother's voice interrupted our attention. "Please don't, Mr. Kampold. Your wife didn't want you to bother them, while they're watching TV."

    Instantly, my ears only heard her voice, and Mr. Kampold. I shushed the woman I was thrilled to make a baby with, but our bodies continued what they had just, urgently begun. The soft moist flesh of her vaginal walls felt like velvety waves sucking at my driving, blunt head.

    "I don't hear the TV. What are they doing in there?"

    "STAY - Uhgg! - OUT, GRANT!" Ms. Kampold grunted in the middle of her command. She whispered fiercely at me. "Please, please don't stop, Billy." Her hand still wet from saliva prodded my bucking thigh.

    "What's going on, Honey? I swear I heard Billy's name come from the TV in there!"

    When the rude man reminded me of my girlfriend and sex friend calling my name, I plunged my hard peter into his wife's puss as fast as I could. I never wanted to make a baby so badly before! In eight months, I would have my first two!

    "Th-that's ridicu - oooohhh - lous, Grant! Go back to the living room." His wife humped faster against my thrusting tool and groaned in rapture as she felt my balls slap against the insides of her quivering thighs. The desire-swollen head of my penis reached just far enough to tease her cervix.

    "You don't sound okay. Susan, what are you doing?"

    "We're doing Yoga!" She answered. "I muted the TV. So we could concentrate on the form and mo- ooo- vement." The motion of her ass, as it slapped my crotch, made my balls rush their silver fluid to the special bulb at the base of my prick. She whispered again. "I can't believe how turned on I am, Billy, knowing my husband is behind that door, worried about us. You're going to make me cum, Billy."

    "Mmmnnn." I could feel the pressure of orgasm building within my loins. "I want you to cum, Ms. Kampold." I kept voice down despite my passion.

    "You have to cum, Billy, inside me, deep inside. If I cum at the same time, that'll help to make a baby." The sleek inner muscles of her cunt tightened around my throbbing young prick as her hand pulled at my thigh, urging me to continue pounding her.

    "I want to make lots of babies in you. Your insides feel so good!" Indeed, our initial spit was now washing away by the incredible amount of lubrication her pussy soaked along my rutting prick. It was like fucking butter, or that's what I imagined. I was having trouble keeping my voice down. "You're gonna make me cum hard. I know it."

    "I can decide if I want you to make triplets in me, or come back to make more babies in me. It's going to happen, with you. I know it!" She rasped.

    "What are you two saying in there?" Mr. Kampold knocked. "Ms. Androini, step away. I need to see this."

    "I don't care if you fire me, Grant, but don't force me to make a decision between you and your wife. She's the one who signed the contract. She even promised a twenty five percent tip. My son is in that room too. Whatever they're doing is none of our business."

    My hips bucked madly to and fro to bury the full length of my lust-hardened rod in the delicate moist walls of the plump, older woman's pussy. We panted heavily as I watched my rock-hard prick, moist with her secretions, pistoning into the tan slit of her thickly hair-fringed cunt.

    "Wh-what are you implying, Faun?" The change in Mr. Kampold's voice was striking.

    "I implied nothing. If they say they're doing yoga, then that's what I will believe. Are you so disconnected with your wife, especially during your wedding anniversary celebration, that you would suspect her of lying?"

    I sweated behind her, moving into a series of longer, smoother plunging strokes that brought my fiery rod of flesh almost all the way out of her clutching vagina on her backstroke and then ramming forward, until I felt the blood-engorged head of my cock kiss her cervix deep inside.

    "Oooohhh, Billlyyy!!!" Her hips thrashed chaotically as her body reached it's limit of building pleasure. "OH, MY STARS!!" She blurted suddenly.

    Her stumble didn't slow me. Instinctively, my body quickened its thrusts. I was close. "OHH!! Ms. Kampold." I could hardly whisper.

    "You're right, Faun. I've been terrible tonight. First I misjudged your passions. Now I'm upset at my wife for what's probably just a silly prank she conspired with Billy, to teach me a lesson."

    Ms. Kampold groaned defenselessly. The back of her neck flushed from her jumble of emotions. We lost control, as my passion became an animal lust that raged against her pouting, dripping hole. The onset of orgasm tightened her back thrusts, allowing me to drive my hard, blood-filled head back and forth, inside her warm viscous passageway. My sperm giving balls slapped louder than our voices, each time I crushed my loins under the valley of her buttocks. Wafts of cool air rushed maddeningly between our crotches, each time I withdrew.

    "That's very insightful, Grant. As a reward, come back to the kitchen, and I'll give you a taste of the dessert that Billy and your wife are preparing for."

    Ms. Kampold's groaning voice rose to a whine of ecstasy as her body stiffened and began vibrating uncontrollably. Her wet fluids oozing from her quivering vagina drowned my impaling member in its sticky warmth.

    I paused for less than a second, thrilled by the older woman's orgasmic convulsions. I went berserk as she gasped her climax against my bucking pelvis. Her body jerked spasmodically. I wildly grabbed her waist as I jammed my exploding cock all the way to the hilt in the heated depths of her powerful, contracting vagina.

    "Give me a baby, now!" Ms. Kampold yelled.

    My hot, creamy, young liquid spurted deep up her stretched pussy, tearing through the juices of her orgasm. Our mutual ecstasies felt eternal as viril sperm boiled deep, filling her to overflowing with its hot stickiness. The hungry walls of her cunt clasped and unclasped around me, milking my jerking organ like starving mouth. Cum juices flowed back around my still-surging prick, spilling down her clenching thighs and flooding my balls and the base of my penis.

    My senses lit up like pinball machine with every light flashing and every bell ringing! I resumed drubbing relentlessly into her, as each spurt send incredible shockwaves through my body.

    "Don't stop, Billy!" she cried dazedly. The ravenous silk of Ms. Kampold's vagina squeezed at the lurching young prick until I gave her a last, spastic lunge. I hugged her belly as my sperm sped madly to impregnate it.

    "Stay inside me, please. She swiveled carefully on the bed to reach her nightstand and opened a drawer. "This is one of my toys." She produced a large plastic egg with a wire that connected to a thick, short wand that had a switch and a slider. "You made me cum so hard, I don't want it to vibrate, but I need it to plug your sperm inside me.

    We made the switch quickly, due to her adept skill at inserting her toy. I grabbed some tissues from the night stand. Ms. Kampold rolled onto the bed, lying on her back. She grabbed two pillows, and tucked them under her ass. "It's better if your sperm can swim downhill." She smiled.

    I didn't know what to say or do. I could barely stand from the joy swirling inside me, except for thoughts of mother with Mr. Kampold, that floated like birds threatening my pleasure.

    "I can't believe, five minutes ago, I was again on the brink of divorce." Ms. Kampold breathed heavily and reached out her arm. "Thank you. I know you made a baby in me, tonight."

    I went to her hug and returned it, but I couldn't stop thinking about Momma. "Thank you, Ms. Kampold. I never knew how crazy good a quick fuck could feel."

    "I'm sorry my husband almost ruined things. If it hadn't been for your mother- I'm going to double her twenty five percent tip."

    "Wow." I blurted. I looked at the door, beyond which Mother was serving a taste of their dessert. "I gotta go." I didn't rush, but I grabbed my clothes and donned them as efficiently as I could while throwing appreciative glances at the woman reclining on her bed. She patted the base of her tummy, where the sperm I had filled her with might give her a child. I smiled one last time at Ms. Kampold and slipped out of her and her husband's bedroom. From the kitchen came faint, lip smacking sounds. They ceased when I closed the door behind me.

    "Billy?" Momma asked.

    "Susan?" Mr. Kampold's voice quivered.

    A rustling noise flared briefly and died as I entered. Mother sat on a barstool, looking down at and smoothing her dress. Mr. Kampold quickly wiped his face with his arm, but the first pass left his lips and cheeks glistening, as if from drool. It made perfect sense to me. My mother's cobbler is the best.

    I returned my attention to Momma. She looked up, smiling. "How was your yoga practice?" Her face was tinged with red, as if she were embarrassed. Did she know what Ms. Kampold and I had really done?

    "Thank you so much for everything." Mr. Kampold suddenly gushed at Momma. "It's been a wonderful dinner. That taste of dessert was the highlight of my evening." He wiped his other arm across his damp face. "I mustn't leave Susan without." He looked at me. "Thank you for helping me to understand." Then Mr. Kampold strode down the hall and into their bedroom.

    When he shut the door, Momma hopped off of the barstool and started collecting our things. "We're going home now, Billy. Be careful storing the knives." As she moved away from the counter, I saw the glass dish with Momma's cobbler. It was untouched.

    "What about Ms. Kampold's dessert?"

    "That's not any of our business, now." She paused to call for Tanya and her cab, before resuming to pack. We didn't even wash the dishes. I did manage to catch a string of exclamations from the master bedroom. "Ignore the wire, and, Uhnghh, keep eating. Just don't suck anything out!"

    Packing up and the drive home were a blur for me. I rode the entire trip with the cobbler dish in my lap. Momma gave it to Tanya as a tip in addition to the twenty dollars she always gave the Ukrainian woman.

    "They did not like the dessert?" Her voice crackled with surprise.

    "They found one that better fit their celebration." Momma assured her.

    Father arrived home an hour after we had cleaned our gear. I was studying videos for my classes, and Momma hummed in and out of the bathroom. She greeted Daddy at the door and dragged him to their room.

    "How was your second gig, my love?"

    "Mr. Kampold gave me a tip in addition to what Ms. Kampold promised." They shut the door.

    Mother sounded as if her earlier frustration with his work hours had vanished. I didn't dare listen at the door. I knew the signs. Tonight they wouldn't say anything - interesting.

    I went to bed with plans forming in my head, for tomorrow.

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    Re: Shota Impregnator [F/m MILF mom shota incest underage happy]

    That night I dreamed of Mr. Kampold chewing on Momma's little finger. Momma blushed when he said, "That taste of dessert was the highlight of my evening." Her finger was bleeding terribly, but she hid it behind her back when I asked if I could bandage it. Then Ms. Kampold appeared in the hall and waggled her little finger at her husband who ran with teeth flashing into their bedroom.

    I woke that morning weighted with dread. Father was just leaving. He checked on me, as I yawned on the couch in my bedclothes. "Take care of your mother, tonight."

    Momma spoke from the kitchen, "He decided to visit with Mrs. Cherkle this evening. I can only imagine that her gingerbread cookies are more attractive than my rye bread." She chuckled.

    Daddy whispered at me. "I hate rye bread - too bitter." He tousled my hair and left for work.

    I thought about that, while bathing and dressing. Momma had handled Mr. Kampold well enough last night, but tonight she would be alone with her client and nobody else. When I emerged, I told Momma. "I want to go with you to Mr. Gorgev's tonight."

    Momma's face grew serious. "I wish you had said that yesterday. We both promised Mrs. Cherkle that you would visit her. It's bad news to go back on a promise. You know that, Billy."

    "I don't care. I don't want you to be alone with Mr. Gorgev."

    "Aw," Momma frowned. "I know you want to take care of me, for your Daddy, and I love your help, but this meal won't take long, and I spoke with Tanya about parking her cab at his home, while I work."

    Momma walked up and placed her hand on my shoulder. "There are many parents in the city who hover over their children like a helicopter, always worrying for their safety. Your daddy and I give you space to make mistakes. It's important that parents find the right distance from their children, to be there for them but to let them build self-confidence. You're growing into a very strong man, because you know that we care very much but won't coddle you."

    Momma leaned close and looked into my eyes. "It's okay to let me make mistakes, Billy."

    Her lecture did little to soothe my worries, but I knew she was right -- because I did feel my parents' love and trust. And I did care about breaking my promise to Mrs. Cherkle. To convince myself, I recalled how Tanya always impressed me with her strength and bravery. I bet she could save Momma from three Mr. Gorgevs. I imagined he was a brute with jaws that would slaver at Momma's arrival.

    "How about this, Billy?" Momma offered. "I will send a picture of me at Mr. Gorgev's place every half hour. The job will take less than three hours. You can check your watch, every half hour to show I'm okay."

    I didn't like it. I wanted to be there with her. "Okay." I pouted.

    "Well, that's the best I can expect from you." Momma straightened. "I've been letting you get your way a little too often, to be a proper mother."

    "I love you." I went to her with a hug. Then I had to go to school.

    Resigned to letting Momma work alone, I walked glumly down the streets. My thoughts perked up when I remembered the TV news last night. I was going to be a father! I had pushed that amazing fact far from my mind, to make babies with Ms. Kampold. Now it returned with powerful awareness. I wondered if other women had my baby in them. Mrs. Guthrie and Mrs. Lum were kinda old. Even Mrs. Cherkle was a little old. And making babies doesn't work most of the time. That's why it's fun to keep trying!

    I decided to ask some of the women who had made babies with me. I didn't know much about pregnancy tests. I knew those couldn't be used right away but not how long a woman has to wait, after sex, to test if my cum put a baby in them. I didn't want to pester them.

    On the TV Jacqueline and Tara had shouted they missed me. Suddenly I missed them greatly, because they were going to have my babies! I wondered if I might be able to contact them. I started searching their names on my watch. I only managed to bump into another person walking the other way.

    A cackle preceded her outburst. "Billy! WATCH where you're going!" Mrs. McDougal pointed at my watch. "Seriously, Child, don't bring attention on these streets to a fancy doodad." She looked around warily.

    "Oh, Hi, Mrs. McDougal. I'm sorry. I'll be more careful." I slid my sleeve over the watch.

    "See that you do." She huffed. "Now tell me about your mother's new job. I hear you went out last night. From the roof, I saw you get out of Tanya Velakowski's cab. Your mother told her something about a better dessert. I'm old, but I have sharp ears, Billy."

    Once more I was surprised and overwhelmed by the apartment owner's bluster! I spoke before I remembered that eavesdropping wasn't nice. That she knew Tanya seemed par for the course, for the witch at Lady of the Lake apartments. "I dunno, Mrs. McDougal. The clients wanted to go to their bedroom instead of eating Momma's cobbler. She gave it to Tanya."

    "Very interesting!" She cackled. "Well, don't just stand there gabbing. You can't be late for school. If you get detention, you'll disappoint Colleen." Saying that, Mrs. McDougal marched back to the apartments.

    I wasn't late to school, but I didn't have time to check the internet before stowing it in my locker. I'd have to wait until lunch. Fortunately, my first three classes moved fairly quickly. History, science, and math drew my attention well enough to prevent pondering my one girlfriend and her friend.

    At the lunch harpsong, I leapt out of math class and hurried to my locker. Watch returned to my wrist, I took my sack lunch and ran to the far end of the school grounds and sat under a tree. I had not done that before, and looking across the grass I saw the other students from a different perspective. They seems far less intimidating from a distance. I wanted to make more friends at school. That would have to wait, this lunchtime. I searched for Jacqueline and Tara.

    Having been recently in the news, their names popped up rather quickly, and I read a few stranger websites that mentioned their notoriety. Some called them terrible things and wanted them jailed because they thought the real victim was Mr. Stoneburger. But none of them had met that mean man. Far more lauded my friends as heroes, like the glamorous reporter had said.

    Through one of the latter postings, Ms. Laghari would have called them essays, I found a link to Tara's place on FriendsPage. I didn't have an account there. I made one and private messaged her.

    "Hi Tara. This is Billy. I saw the news and I want to say that I'm glad you won that award. How are you and Jacqueline?"

    That's all I had time for contacting them, after searching and making a 'Spage' (what the other kids called that tired social media platform), before lunch ended. FriendsPage wanted me to use a picture of myself, but my watch couldn't take one. I just drew a cartoon head in the paint program and used it.

    My next class was English, and I cringed at the thought of being glared at by Ms. Laghari. Actually, the opposite happened. I got the feeling that she was avoiding me, during class. I couldn't figure her out, but I did like writing about the places I most often visited on the internet. That was the day's assignment.

    In P.E. Mrs. Lum taught us something way more fun than sex education websites. She showed us a series of joint lock tricks and how to get out of them. I was surprised how easy it was for me to put James, the biggest kid in class, into an armlock. Then he put me in a wrist lock, and I figured out how to escape. It was the most fun I'd had in P.E., ever.

    By comparison, Art and Music class was a bummer. We had to take a test about scales and colors. I think I did pretty good on the test, but it was so boring!

    When class was over, I darted back to my locker, only to find Mrs. Lum waiting for me.

    "Am I in trouble again?"

    She smiled, "No, Billy, but I may be." Her eyes twinkled. "I've missed what we did in the storage locker, but I don't think is safe to pretend in there. I wanted to let you know that I have a bad habit of not locking the back door to my house on Monday nights. It's not far from your apartment building." She gave a slip of paper with the address, to me. "I always keep a jar of condoms on the shelf in the bathroom. My home's a small place that's easy to sneak around in, in the dark." She gave me a sexy grin and wandered off in the direction of her office.

    I almost forgot why I was in a hurry. Just in case Momma decided to cancel my visit to Mrs. Cherkle, I ran outside with my backpack, hoping she might be waiting at the bus stop for Tanya's cab.

    There were only kids waiting at the covered bench. I knew Momma would have emailed, if she had wanted me to help her with Mr. Gorgev. It was my imagination's fault for the sadness I experienced when she wasn't there. On the other hand, she might still be at the apartment, since it would be a short job. But before I ran down the streets, I checked my email.

    There was nothing from Momma, but I got a Spage notification. Tara had messaged me back! I clicked the email link to her message.

    "Sure, whoever you are, next to all the marriage offers I'm getting, invites from Billy are the most common thing in my in-box. Don't you know what sarcasm is!! I'm going to have to delete my Spage account if this keeps up."

    She didn't believe me! My sadness deepened. I wrote another email. It's was my only chance, I felt. "Tara, it's me!" (as if that would convince her. To be sure I added) Remember the fun we had in your and Jacqueline's cabin at night, and then the next morning behind the curtain in the coffee and hot chocolate car? Please don't go away! Oh, and what's sarcasm?"

    That was all I could allow myself to write before hiding my watch with my sleeve and running back to my apartment. Momma wasn't there either. She had taken the cooking kit she'd collected and the ingredients for Mr. Gorgev's dinner. My heart fell lower. I would have to visit Mrs. Cherkle.

    There was a knock at the door. "Billy?" That was her voice. "I saw you on the walkway, from my window. Are you okay?"

    I went and opened the door. "Hi, Mrs. Cherkle. I'm okay." I probably didn't sound okay.

    "Aw." She said and entered with a hug. "What's got you down?"

    "I'm worried about Momma."

    "I would be too." She was about to say more.

    My watch buzzed on my wrist. I revealed it. Momma had texted her first picture! It was a selfie with her and Tanya and a short, black haired man who looked a little like a fantasy movie elf. Instantly, I didn't trust him, but he didn't look at all scary as I had imagined. He stood a couple steps away from the other too, waving, with a slightly confused expression. Momma had written next to it, "All is well. I'll send another picture while I'm preparing Mr. Gorgev's dinner.

    I showed the picture to Mrs. Cherkle, and explained that Momma was going to check in every half hour.

    "That's pretty good. I doubt with the cab driver near by and regular messages, anyone would bother your mother."

    "I guess." I still sounded sad.

    "Don't be a sourpuss." She scolded me lightly. "I should have brought cookies. Shall we go to my place now?"

    The prospect of tasting her delicious gingerbread was enticing.

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    Re: Shota Impregnator [F/m MILF mom shota incest underage happy]

    The truth was, I felt anchored at home. Until Momma returned safe and happy, all the cookies in Mrs. Cherkle's log cabin jar wouldn't settle me enough. It was hard to explain that feeling, especially to myself. I only knew I'd worry more, even while making babies with her, as close as her apartment was to mine.

    I had told her secrets last time. Now I needed someone congenial and caring, like her, to hear what I feared most. "Mrs. Cherkle, I'm not really old enough to protect my Momma from a bad client, am I?"

    Mrs. Cherkle gave up luring me to her place. She took a deep breath and frowned. "That's not necessarily true, Billy. You can run, and you can call the police. A lot of adults won't do that much for a neighbor."

    "I'd do it for you." I told the truth.

    "Let's sit on the couch and wait for your mother."

    "Okay." My spirit lifted, but it would be a long wait for Momma's next picture.

    We cuddled. She pulled one of the blankets for my bed from the top of the couch and tucked it around us. The odor of ginger from her told me she had made a fresh batch. I felt bad. She had wanted me to eat them at their best.

    "I'm not your mother, but would you protect me until she returns to you?" She kissed my ear. It tickled.

    "Hee, okay. I'm sorry the cookies you made for me are downstairs."

    "They're just cookies, and easy to make, once you do it a few times."

    As much as I enjoyed cuddling with a blanket around us, I jumped up. "Momma taught me to make lots of things. Do you think I could learn to make cookies like yours?"

    My sudden fire leaped to Mrs. Cherkle's eyes. "I don't see why not." She pulled the blanket away from her and rose elegantly to her feet. "Let's see what you have for ingredients."

    We nearly bounced to the kitchen to search cabinets and the refrigerator. She wrote down what we found, on the pad of paper next to apartment's phone. Eggs, butter, flour, nutmeg, ginger (of course!) cloves, and cinnamon, baking soda, salt, brown sugar- "This vanilla extract is almost empty. We also need molasses, and I like adding a little grapefruit zest to the mix. It keeps the cookie from tasting too sweet.

    "We can use less sugar, instead." I offered.

    "We could, but that would change the composition of the result."

    "Huh?"

    "Have you baked anything yet?" Mrs. Cherkle asked sweetly.

    "I put what Momma makes, into the oven, and I watch the timer carefully. I even preheat the oven."

    "Heat and timing are critical. That's an important start, but the magic of baking is in the proportions and handling. If we short the sugar, the cookies will come out too limp."

    "I don't want my gingerbread people to have limps." I smiled at my pun.

    She bent down suddenly and kissed my cheek! "I'm so glad." I think now she was talking about my uplifted mood. Her kiss uplifted my pee pee.

    "But we don't have molasses or enough vanilla." My pockets had less than a dollar, and I didn't want to leave for the corner market. I pouted.

    "I do." She turned to the phone and picked it up. After punching in a number she lilted into the receiver, "Hello Godwin, would you be a dear and bring unopened bottles of molasses and vanilla extract to Ms. Androni's apartment?" She paused.

    "Yes, I'm with Billy. We decided to play here, until his mother returns from her job. Oh, and check if we have a grapefruit that hasn't been in the refrigerator too long. The last thing, very important, bring the log cabin jar." She told me, "That way we can compare the taste of our cookies."

    I smiled.

    Listening further, her smile shrank a little. "I don't know. Do I really have to remind you? That's up to him."

    My watch buzzed! Had it been a half hour yet? No, it was an email from Tara. "Billy? Maybe that's you, but I've gotten emails that were smart fakes. I don't want to be disappointed again. Send a picture of you." Was her disheartening but less awful reply. My watch didn't take pictures, and I was happy enough to be with Mrs. Cherkle. I'd have to send it tomorrow.

    The apartment manager was shaking her head. "Don't be so dramatic, not after how you reacted last time." She replaced the handset on the base. "It shouldn't take him more than ten minutes." She began pulling bowls and measuring cups from the cupboards and tools from draws.

    "Should I preheat the oven?" I felt a bit of heat in my loins. Mrs. Cherkle didn't look at all like my mother, but learning to cook with her felt sweetly similar. I was starting to want to make babies ... but not as much as I wanted to learn how to make cookies!

    "Not just yet." She found the sifter, and went to arrange the equipment on the counter.

    As I watched, I imagined baking wonderful cookies to sell to Momma's clients and give to my teachers, and if they were good enough maybe the Colkicks, Momma's bosses, would find more ways to sell them! Another buzz from my watch broke my fantasy.

    "Mr. Gorgev took this picture. No. I didn't let him use my phone. He mailed it to my phone from his." Momma's next picture showed her in her dress and apron standing in a rustic kitchen. Her hands wore silver oven mits. She smiled encouragingly.

    Mrs. Cherkle came to me after I hadn't stopped looking at my watch for a minute. "Your mother's very beautiful, Billy, and smart. She misses you as much as you miss her."

    I hugged the cook I was with. I only sniffed once.

    "I feel very safe with you." She put an arm around me. A deep breath heaved in and out of her mouth and nose. Buried in the huff a single word wafted. "Daddy."

    "What do we mix first?" I asked finally and released her.

    "The dry ingredients." We turned to the counter.

    The doorbell rang.

    I teased her, "I'll get it, Colleen, but what if it isn't Mr. Cherkle?"

    "Just don't drop anything." She dismissed my tease with a shake of her head, while assuming I wouldn't let him into the house. She was right.

    "Oh, um, hi, Billy." He looked and sounded awkward, standing in front of the door, carrying a cut open Ammozammo, cardboard box with two bottles, one big, one small, and a ceramic cookie jar. "It's heavier than it looks. I'll bring it in."

    "I'm sorry Mr. Cherkle. I can't let you in when my parents aren't home." I thought it was a good excuse.

    "We're both responsible for you." He grumbled.

    "Did my Momma talk with you about sitting for me?"

    "Uh, no, but it's normal for a husband-"

    "Billy, is he going to be a bother?" There was hint of worry in his wife's voice.

    "Please give me the box and go, Mr. Cherkle." I tried to be polite like Momma was in a trying situation.

    His eyes looked past me, and he blurted. "This isn't right, Colleen! I won't let you humiliate me again."

    "I don't like his tone." She started. Another huff I barely heard, carried the word louder, "Daddy."

    "You're scaring her. We want you to go." I said as bravely as I could to the aging but big and very strong maintenance man. I put out my arms.

    His eyes and cheeks turned a little red in the light next to the door. He gulped and blinked and looked away from me while placing the box in my hands. It was a bit heavy, but he had exaggerated for an excuse to enter. Retreating, I kicked the door shut. It closed with a loud report. I even managed to set the locks, with my hands full.

    I returned to the kitchen and set the box on the floor. The counters were covered with ingredients and equipment. Mrs. Cherkle had sat on a stool. She regarded me with innocence. "Is he gone?" Her voice was pitched high and light. She idly swiped a firm rubber mixing paddle across the warming stick of butter and then licked the paddle.

    "I took care of him." I said.

    "Thank you, Daddy." She smiled and swiped another lick of butter. She saw me lower my head at what she was doing. "I'm sorry. It tastes comforting."

    "You got your germs on the stick." I sounded disappointed.

    She tried to change the subject. "You saved me from that man. When he's like that, I need a strong Daddy to protect me."

    Her sweet voice made my pee pee very hard. She was letting me take charge again. My growing urge compelled an excuse. "A strong daddy can't let his girl put cooties on the food. You should know better."

    She hung her head. "I also licked the brown sugar." We used it rarely, and it had become a solid lump in its packaging. I pretended it was a big deal.

    "Give me the paddle, Colleen." I held out my hand.

    That lit a spark that swept away her remorse. "Please, Daddy, I won't do it again. I'll go buy fresh butter and brown sugar."

    "You know you can't go out out after dark."

    "I know." She pouted.

    My palm waited. "One."

    "Yes, all right!" She gave me the paddle.

    "You gotta obey me quicker, Colleen. I'm sorry I have to remind you." My peter actually hurt from pressing strong against my pants. I walked into the living room, up to the couch. "Come here."

    "No. Please, Daddy! It was just a couple licks. I told you about licking the brown sugar. I didn't have to."

    "You didn't half to lick it."

    "Don't make it hurt too much, please?" She shuffled from around the eating counter. I remember Momma warning me. Open ingredient packages let air ruin their flavor. Mrs. Cherkle sniffled, looking down. She stopped just out of my reach.

    "Two." I said.

    "Promise it won't hurt too much." Her voice trembled.

    "The more I count, the worse it'll be."

    "No, Daddy. I'll do what you want." Her eyes lifted to plead at me.

    "Take off your clothes. I wasn't going to make you, but you took too long to obey." I didn't want to paddle her lots. I breathed heavily, knowing what we would do after her punishment. She forced me to increase her punishment.

    "That'll make it hurt more. Just paddle me now." She made a quarter turn, presenting half her bum to me.

    "Girls must never tell their daddy how to paddle them." I counted softer. "Three."

    "Okay! Okay!" She whined and fumbled at her buttons. Mrs. Cherkle's blouse was a thick, pink linen elegantly ironed. It opened from top to bottom, suddenly revealing that she hadn't put on a bra. Was that because of me? Her modest breasts were firm enough to spread the opening vee as she worked to unbutton the garment. I wanted to kiss them and flick them with my fingers.

    Releasing the last button, her blouse opened completely, and the sight of her bare, smooth tummy delighted me almost as much as her girl sized boobs. She quickly pulled the her arms out of the shirt and dropped it. Mrs. Cherkle paused to gauge my intent. She looked down and wrestled with the buckle of her thin, red leather belt holding up her off-white slacks.

    "You're very pretty, Colleen." I blurted, almost breaking character. I wanted to go to her and skip the punishment game, and make a baby in her right then.

    She smiled at me, but her hands stopped. "Do you really think so?"

    I cleared my throat and nodded a stern look at her hands.

    "I'm sorry, Daddy. I don't want my hands to tremble so much. They just do!"

    I didn't say anything but I opened my mouth as if about to."

    "Not four! Please, I'm trying." She finally unbuckled the belt and immediately tackled the clasp of her pants. It opened quickly, and she zipped the fly just as fast. She dove the waistband and belt down her ass and thighs. Then she saw her mistake. She hadn't taken off her shoes. They were short, white pumps, slip-ons, but with her pants around her knees kicking or prying them off was difficult. She bent down.

    Shifting her weight to one foot, to free the other, she lost her balance on the carpet under her short but skinny heels. I jumped forward and caught her. "You're safe with me."

    Mrs. Cherkle grabbed me and hugged me and held one. She kissed my lips, pecking them. "I know, Daddy. You're gonna paddle me because you really care." I let her use me as an anchor to work off her shoes. I couldn't help but put my hand on her bum cheeks and stroke them through the full pantyhose and short panties within. I wondered if she had bought sexier panties for me. Before, she had worn plain, white ones. These were thin and tight and lacy, navy blue.

    On her stockinged feet, she pushed her pants to the carpet and stepped out of them. Her hands flew to her nylons. She pulled them down so quickly, she tore it in a couple places. "There, Daddy." She pulled the single garment off her second food and let it drop.

    "Those are very sexy panties."

    She blushed. "I wanted you like them."

    "Four." I shook my head.

    "NOOO!!!" She actually raised her hands and struck me! Instantly she jumped back, breasts quivering. "I'M SORRY!!" Mrs. Cherkle cried!

    "Five." I looked very disappointed. "I told you to take off your clothes, Colleen."

    "But they're just thin panties. They won't get in your way."

    "You didn't obey me." I left my mouth open as if to continue.

    "I'll take them off!" She yelped! Her hands dove into the waistband and pulled them over her ass. A tangle of grey and dark hair greeted me. Her ass was smooth. All signs of her previous punishments had recovered. I licked my lips at the thought of marking them again.

    Once her panties lay on the floor, she stared at me with pleading eyes again.

    "Now bend over the arm of the couch and push back your bottom."

    "I-I'm ssorrry. Please forgive me. I know you're going to hurt me so much!" She quailed but quickly obeyed. Her hands dropped on the middle cushion to hold up her torso, and she leaned back to present her naked bum and pouting puss. Her salt and pepper thicket hung between her thighs and the plush armrest.

    "How high did I count, Sweetheart?"

    "F-five, Daddy."

    "That means, fifty swats." My pee pee wrenched inside my pants. They felt like sandpaper against the engorged, sensitive head

    "Nooooo."

    "I love you, but you have to learn." I plied the stiff, rubber paddle across her closer cheek, with all my strength. SNAP!

    "OWWW!!"

    I only paused for a second.

    "One, Daddy. I'll count them. See, I learned from last time."

    SWACK!

    "OWWWHHH!!!" She gasp, "Two."

    "Keep up with me." I warned and struck her other cheek.

    "TREEE!!"

    Close enough. SWAT!

    "FOUR!"

    SMACK! SMACK! I dosed both cheeks with swift blows.

    "FIFE. SEX!!"

    My penis lurched again, and I grunted. "Ngh."

    "Daddy?"

    SWAT!! I hit with a full swing.

    "AAAAAAA!!!!" She lost her breath. "Ssseeevvnnn." She hissed.

    WHACK!! WHACK!!

    "YEAIGHT!! NIIINE!!

    I drew my hand all the way back for ten, smacking right below the middle of her ass, hoping to bruise the pout there. SWACK!!

    YAAAAAAA!!! NOT THERE, DADDY!"

    I waited. She nearly had to count over, due to having to catch her breath.

    "Tuh-TEN!"

    "Ten are for licking the butter and sugar."

    "Yes, Daddy! I'm sorry, Daddy!"

    SWATT! I resumed hitting her asscheeks. The light paddle felt good in my hands. The cleaver I'd used on Mrs. Abbey had been really heavy. This firm rubbery, bowl scraper was perfect. It struck soundly and left a red rectangle with a curve at one corner. It promised to let me swing it for a long time before tiring me. I planted it precisely wherever I wanted, again and again. Mrs. Cherkle cried out and counted.

    SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

    "SevenTEENEightTEENNineteen! She hollered. When I paused, her body winced knowing what I would strike next.

    I angled the paddle to plant deeper between the top of her thighs. SMASH!!

    "OOYYYYAAAAAAAA!!!" She shrieked. "T-T-T-TWENty!" She lost her breath again.

    A jumble of red swatches covered her ass. Her pouting puss glistened in crimson.

    "Twenty is for being too slow to obey." My arm was a little tired after twenty. I switched hands.

    "Thirty is for not stripping right away and worse, telling me how to punish you." I had wanted the thirty to be very hard, but my off hand wasn't as strong. Still, her ass was so raw and abused, she screamed louder than before.

    After thirty, I had to take a break. My erection kept grinding against my clothes. I unbuttoned my pants and took them and my shorts off while she panted. I was wearing socks and a shirt, after that.

    "Oh, Daddy!" Mrs. Cherkle huffed and huffed, grateful for the pause. "Is that going to punish me?" Her complete innocence always surprised me. It was like she wasn't playing a game. "I'm just a little girl, and its size scares me."

    I wanted to fuck her right then. I didn't care about the last twenty swats. It was just a game, and I could make the rules."

    That isn't what daddy's did, though. I had full control, but she was the one who made me her Daddy. I had to keep my promise.

    SWACK!!!

    "Owww!" She couldn't get enough air to express the full pain I inflicted on her abused behind.

    Forty was for leaving her panties on. They had looked very sexy. So I didn't hit her quite as hard.

    She was able to catch her breath. She needed it. Fifty was for hitting her daddy.

    SMASHH!!! I beat her puss, ten times, hitting it as hard as my tiring arms could. I switched halfway through the last count of ten.

    "YYAAAAIIIIIEEEEE!!!" She screamed over and over. Somehow she managed to squeeze in, "FORRTY Fife!!!, FORRTY sexxx, FORR-AA-TY SVEN!! FORRTY- OOWWWW - eight."

    CRACK!!!

    "F-F-F-F-FORRTTY NIGHNNN- AAAA" Her voice trailed off into intense silence. Her legs had been trembling for the last dozen strikes.

    "F-F-F-IFFTTY?? Daddy, p-p-please don't make me wait." Her body was on the verge of collapse. "It h-hurts so baad."

    I made her wait. I grabbed pillows and blankets. She watched me, but pain befuddled understanding. I stuffed them under her belly and pert breasts.

    Finally, I moved behind her and held her hips by the wide bone on each side. I hadn't struck them. "Let go, Honey. It's okay. You said fifty, already. It's here for you." I slotted my pee pee into her beaten labia and felt, inside, it was as wet as she could get. I slipped the aching head up and down until it caught her inner pucker, and I pressed firmly, slowly, my raging penis into her body.

    "OHH, DADDY!!! It's big, but- It's not too big. I like it Daddy." She continued to gasp for breath.

    I kept sliding prick into her drenched hole until my little hairs tickled her burning red bottom. My hips pulled back, withdrawing slowly the hard flesh from her sensitive valley. I began fucking her at that calm rate. It felt amazing! I was so pent up with lust, I feared I would piledrive my cock against her abused cunt, but I loved little Colleen too much. I was her daddy and had to protect her. I must never do to her what Ms. Hennifer wanted most to do to me.

    "It hurts bad on the outside. But you make my insides feel wonderful!" Mrs. Cherkle cooed. She still struggled to fill her lungs, until each careful dive of my prick through her womb's entrance stimulated a new rhythm for breathing. We sucked in air and exhaled together. My peter, hard as steel, pushed in and withdrew to that rhythm.

    "HHUUHHH!" She puffed.

    "Unnnggghh." I huffed, pleasure permeating into my shifting prick went deeper than the wetness flowing across it.

    She felt the head thrust into her outer cunt lips and she thrilled as it penetrated, stretching her labia. Again I pushed my length into her soaking vagina, all the way.

    A strange sensation added to our pleasure. It arose from restraining my urge to pound Mrs. Cherkle. The tip was tapping at her cervix, at full penetration. Some may say that pussies are all like, but having been inside Ms. Kampold yesterday, it was clear that Mrs. Cherkle, though older, had less depth, allowing my penis to kiss her innermost orifice with each push. It felt amazing! I wouldn't have noticed if I had been thrusting with all my vigor.

    Billy, that feels so much better than my husband. He just rams it in! You could spank me a hundred times if the hundredth felt like this!

    "Your pussy around my prick is so wet and tight." I panted, moving my crotch again to her blazing bottom. The heat of it warmed my thighs. She began backing into my rod to ensure the bloated tip of my peter went deep every time. "Ooohhh, it's so slippery and good." My extremity kissed her deepest recess, once more.

    Mrs. Cherkle began mewling and swirling her ass. Maybe it was to wave away some of the heat, but it made her insides writhe around my prodding dick. The sensation was half masturbating and half sucking, another amazing thing that would have been lost in wild fucking.

    Clamping down on my rocking shaft, she squirmed gently upon me, delighted by its incredible hardness. Rotating her crotch let her sensitized walls enjoy every rub of my peter. I saw her asshole tighten and unclench from the pleasures sweeping into her body. She said, "Fuck me, Daddy. Oh, fuck me with that fantastic, loving prick. I want it, want to screw it until all the pain goes away. Pump it to me - so good!"

    I picked up a beat, my slim shaft working in and out of the grasping confines of her wet pussy, screwing in constant eruptions of her sex fluids. The overflow of her lubrication drowned my precum. She pushed back, clenching tightly. Soon my semen would challenge her flow with its pending eruption.

    Mrs. Cherkle reached one hand back through her thighs to find my swinging balls. She held them, squeezed them gently, fondled them as I fed my stiffness into her avid labia.

    I started to roll my ass, to grind my peter in opposite rotation to her swirling bum. It intensified our mutual, slippery and juicy sensations. It brought us close to the precipice. Then she speeded up, needing my hard meat deeper, faster, needing more of it in her inflamed pussy. Her clitoris thrummed madly, losing all rhythm to finish in ecstacy. My thrusts exuded faint jerks that signaled the swift approach of my own orgasm.

    "Go, Daddy!" she gasped. "Oh yes, ... fuck me hard and fuck me strong! Stick your cock so deep that I'll feel it in my belly. Oooh! Y-yes, Daddy! That's it. I'm coming, coming, coming!"

    "I'm going to cum, too!" I shouted, now thrusting swiftly into her red, flaming behind. " I-I can't hold it off! I love you so much- AHHH!"

    "Go on, Daddy! Let it all go! Squirt your lovely hot semen into me, into your daughter's cunt. We're coming together - so fine!" I was only a heartbeat behind the titanic cresting that broke foaming throughout her rippling cunt. Great and glorious, her climax swept her body, making her moan and twist, and knotting her abused asshole.

    Cum erupted from the flexing end of my hard cock, spewing a boiling stream of the wondrous liquid that both seared and soothed. She met my last, hesitant strokes, swinging her ass and humping her snatch back, accepting the pain of the wet slap of my balls. She was sweet and magnificent and adorable, as she rode the diminishing spurts of semen which splashed torridly into her shuddering pussy. My cum hissed between us, another heavy load that filled the length of her throbbing pussy, drowning her womb and flooding back to leak creamy and sticky around my root and down her thighs.

    I sank sideways to lean against the couch back. She collapsed, breasts crushing the pillows and blankets I had stuffed beneath her. My softening peter slipped out, and I saw again how dark and red my blows had left her behind. Guilt and pride conflicted in my heart.

    "Thank you, Daddy. I'll try to be good next time."

    She had been, very good. I wobbled up and entered my parents' room. I took an unopened jar of Mom's cold cream, saving the open one for her exclusive use, and returned to my trembling, suffering, glowing baby sitter. I knew the chance of sitting a baby into an older woman wasn't very high, but I enjoyed imagining my sperm working their way up her womb, into her fall-open tubes to find and merge with a wandering egg.

    I opened the jar and smoothed cold, cold cream gently across her inflamed rear.

    "Oooo, it helps but it hurts too."

    I continued to apply the soothing spread. Her ass flinched and jerked. I felt my dick respond similarly, but I was more than satisfied for the night.

    My watch buzzed.

    "Oops! He caused a little accident, and my dress got stained." It was a selfie of her in the bathroom, daubing her beautiful, full length costume with tissue. Something had splattered across it, centered around its waist band. Her lap and belly were dotted with dark stains. She was smiling though. "It's polyester. So it'll dry clean perfectly."

    "What's the matter, Billy?" Mrs. Cherkle roused from her pile of bedclothes. My quiet reaction had been too quiet, too long.

    "Mr. Gorgev splattered on Momma's dress." I sulked.

    "Let me see." She groaned from twisting around, even though I leaned over and stretched out my arm to show her. "Well." Then she was quiet.

    She chuckled. "I'm not sure you could have saved her from that, Billy. He must have flipped his plate by accident. But she is correct. It'll clean easily."

    I disbelieved her. Anything bad that happened, I was sure I would have prevented. I swore to never let Momma work alone again.

    Mrs. Cherkle spoke in her normal voice, "But you only put cream on half of what hurts, Daddy." She tried to reignite my imagination.

    "I'm sorry." I finished coating her paddled behind, mechanically, thinking only of my failure to protect Momma. I kissed her torso and arm and cheek, absentmindedly.

    What did break me out of my mud pit of guilt, was the doorbell. "Huh?" Daddy wouldn't ring.

    "Billy, who could it be?"

    "I don't know."

    Then there was a knocking. Mrs. McDougal's voice scoured through the door. "I have a present for you!"

    Mrs. Cherkle nodded, also recognizing the apartment owner, her boss. I went to the door and looked through the peep hole. One crazed eye peeped back. I flinched, and its intensity compelled me to unlock the door quickly and open it.

    "Took you long enough! Look what I caught. I'm not a strong woman - he might have got away!" The witch of Lady of the Lake gripped Mr. Cherkle's ear as if she had cast a spell on his powerful form, making him cower at her side. "I spotted him snooping at your door, listening. He was doing something unmentionable, to boot, but I thought you ought to know two things." She didn't enumerate them. "I keep an eye out for all of my tenants, and I won't let anyone disturb or intrude on them. I nearly called the police before I recognized him."

    "Godwin P. Cherkle, what the hell were you thinking?" Mrs. Cherkle had wrapped a blanket around her delicate figure, neck to ankles. Her eyes blazed at her husband. They swung left and instantly softened. "Please don't fire him, Gladys. I promise I'll make sure he never ever considers trespassing on residents again."

    "I don't know, Colleen. I trust you, but I had trusted him to maintain these apartments, meaning he has full access to all of them."

    "You're right, of course." Mrs. Cherkle was quick to make a counter-offer. "What if you give me the keys. I'll insure that he never uses them without proper permission."

    A long drawn, low growl issued from Mrs. McDougal's throat.

    My brain was working frantically. If Mr. Cherkle got fired, Mrs. Cherkle might have to move. "Please, Mrs. McDougal, it's my fault." The guilt that drove my outburst was from my failure to protect Momma from a splattering. The crazy situation with Mr. Cherkle transformed it. "I was suppose to go to their apartment. He-" I glanced at him angrily. "Maybe he was just trying to look out for us, since my Momma and Daddy are away."

    To date, I can't believe anyone would buy such a load of crap, especially the sharp eyed, sharp tongued Mrs. McDougal. Instead of tearing into such an obvious lie, the witch's eyes suddenly sparkled. Her grimace switched to a grin.

    "Heh!" She cackled. "The boy's got more chutzpah than all your adult machismo."

    "Godwin, apologize right now for presuming to guard Billy." Through the thick blanket, her hand grasp my arm.

    "Yes, Colleen. I'm sorry, Billy. I got carried away. I don't want to bother anyone! I just thought if I kept an ear out, I was doing a husband's duty."

    "Billy is ten times the protector you are." Mrs. Cherkle's outrage softened. "Now thank Gladys for catching you."

    His head ducked until it was lower than the short witch of a woman. "Th-thank you, Gladys, I was totally out of line. It won't happen ever again."

    "I have your wife's word on that, Godwin. That's the word I'll accept tonight. Keep up the good work that you've done up until now, and I may give you a chance to redeem tonight's horrid behavior."

    "Thank you. Thank-" Mr. Cherkle bowed. His eyes suddenly locked onto me. They opened wide in horror.

    Then everyone noticed, including myself.

    Except for my shirt, I was buck naked, one hand marked with cold cream and the other's wrist sporting a picture of Momma in her splattered dress. Worse, my once happily resting pee pee had shot forth with renewed strength, sticking most of its length through the front tails of my shirt.

    "Well for star's sake! If that's not the dandiest sight I have seen in the last twenty years, I never will see another. Mrs. McDougal cried out. Her delight was followed by a hearty cackle!

    "Oh no!" Mrs. Cherkle gasp. She grabbed the doorknob. "We have to get back to the, um, uh, his bath before the tub overflows." She cringed and flashed a cringing smile. "He lept up, worried that you might be his mother needing his help to carry her cooking wares and supplies."

    Mr. Cherkle turned to stone.

    His wife pulled me away and pushed the door. Before it closed, Mrs. McDougal cackled one last time for the night, "I have a mind to offer my tent to the boy, when his mother needs time away from him. I've got more reliable eyes than any of the residents here."

    The door shut with a thud, and Mrs. Cherkle hugged me. The blanket slipped off her. "What were YOU thinking?" She started laughing.

    We did shower, together. She kept her bum clear of the hot spray. I stayed mortified until she once more wrapped me up with her on the couch. She had to lean so far on the least punished side of her hips, to keep her bum off the cushion, the blanket barely covered us. She pressed long kisses on my mouth and the side of my face. "I wish more than anything, that I could have your baby."

    My erection returned briefly at the thought. Eventually it rested for the night, and we cuddled until my watch buzzed.

    "On my way home." The picture showed her and Tanya at the side of her cab, another selfie. The cabbie had one arm around Momma's neck. Her other hand pointed at the array of stains on Momma's dress. She pretended to laugh. My heart lightened a little. It was funny.

    I dressed in my pajamas, and Mrs. Cherkle pulled on her pants and blouse. She buckled her belt just before the doorknob clicked and Momma entered, carrying two plastic sacks. Tanya entered behind her, with the rest of her gear.

    "Thank you, again, Tanya." Momma sighed. "Put those- What were you two doing?" She recognized all of her bowls and baking supplies covering the counter."

    "Mrs. Cherkle was going to teach me how to make her gingerbread cookies." I went to the counter and hurried to return things to their proper places. There I noticed an odd odor coming from her dress, but I was too focused on clearing the counter to worry about it.

    "And what's this?" Momma lifted from the top of a wastebasket, a slightly torn pair of full nylons.

    "That was my fault, Faun." Mrs. Cherkle moved stiffly, stifling her discomfort. "We got to playing, and things got a little rough."

    Mother dropped the ruined stockings and a big smile crossed her face. "And here I thought you'd be glued to the window, Billy, waiting for me to return safely!" She feigned a pout. "I'm not sure how I feel about this."

    Tanya Velakowski laughed. "All is good here!" She pointed at me. "I remand the mother back to you." With that she retreated and slipped out the door.

    "I should go, too." Mrs. Cherkle looked as if she wanted to give me one last hug.

    "Oh, never mind my silliness, Colleen. Stay. Have some leftovers."

    "I distracted your boy from mooning over you, long enough. I should return to my husband and deal with his mooning." She went to the corner where the Ammozammo box sat and hoisted it but not before giving us three cookies. "A daddy, and a mommy, and their big son."

    "I'll see her out." I darted around the bar counter. We hugged at the door. "Thank you."

    "Good night." Her smile was gentle before she turned away. I closed the door slowly.

    "I can only imagine you were a pain in her rear, the entire night, Billy, - the way you carried on this morning."

    I didn't comment, but my heart tittered in secret before hardening. "I should have gone with you to stop Mr. Gorgev from spattering your dress."

    "Don't be silly. It was just an accident." Mother looked away from me when she said it. "Let me help you with these things."

    "No, Momma." I jumped back into our small kitchen. "It's my mess. I should clean it up."

    "If you're going to be that way about it. I'll put my own things away."

    An hour later, we had finished restoring the kitchen to order, and I had finished Momma's leftovers. "Why do you smell like nasty pine cones?" The strange scent had eluded me the entire time.

    Mother blushed, "I used Mr. Gorgev's bathroom air freshener. I thought it would smell better than his, um, borscht."

    "Wow, were you wrong!" I pinched my nose. "That beet soup was delicious!" I retreated to the couch and started making my bed, while she washed the last of the job's dishes.

    "I'm the one who had to smell it the most!" She laughed. "I gave Tanya a double tip for making her cab smell like a bathroom." She scurried to our bathroom. "Finally, I can get out of this. I'll put it in a plastic bag until I take it to the cleaners tomorrow."

    Daddy came home while Momma was in the shower. "Hey, Sport." We hugged, and I gave him one of Mrs. Cherkle's cookies. I returned to the couch to watch another video for school on my watch. Nibbling contentedly, he pulled his laptop from his briefcase and handed it to me.

    "Thanks, Dad."

    Daddy tilted his head briefly at the floor, shrugged, and went to their bedroom. I was busy with his laptop which was much better for videos. I completed my homework before Momma ended preparing for bed.

    When I put the laptop back in Daddy's case, I noticed a spot on my light blue, pajama sleeve. I must have spilled a drop of soup. I remembered Momma warning me, when I offered to help her make borsht. "Careful, beet stains are one of the most difficult to get out." One drop had turned the spot on my cuff to deep purple. It made me think of Momma's blue dress and the slightly dark, blue stains Mr. Gorgev had caused. Something wasn't right. It only firmed my resolve to never let Momma go to work without me.

    "Hello, Beautiful." Daddy called out, muted by the door.

    I tiptoed to their door.

    "The boss was out for the day. I took it easy."

    "You still look tired."

    "Distracted, maybe. I saw something peeking out from the couch, when I gave Billy my laptop." When mother didn't bite, he continued. "Do you think he would steal a pair of your panties? It was a sultry blue pair with fringe."

    "Mmmm, interesting." Mother's voice lilted. "What if I were to tell you that I changed out of them this morning, and dropped them in the bathroom for him to find?"

    "Faun, th-that's a fantasy you know I would have a lot of trouble with."

    "Because it's too good, or because it involves our son?"

    "You know I won't judge any fantasy as wrong, but that's way too hot."

    Mother doubled down. "Here's a picture I took for Billy, to assure him I was safe."

    "The poor dress." Daddy's voice sounded like a frown.

    "What if I told you Borysko had been masturbating under the table, and when I went to serve dessert, he turned and ejaculated gallons of cum over me?"

    "Gallons?"

    "Gallons, Honey."

    "Did you save the dress for me?"

    "I did, but it smells like fake pine scent, now."

    "I don't care!" Father hissed passionately.

    Many noises, loud and soft, ensued. I knew better than to spend time figuring out which sound was what. I raced back to the couch and instantly found what Daddy had seen. It was Mrs. Cherkle's used panties. Had she left them for me on purpose? She must have made a mistake, like me opening the door, naked in front of very embarrassing people! I tucked it under a cushion, promising to find a better hiding place or to return it in the morning.

    Also, there was Tara's email. I had to send her a picture. That wouldn't be difficult, if Momma used her phone.

    Tomorrow would be Friday. As I lay in bed, wild emotions and wilder thoughts swirled through me. What would I do?

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    Re: Shota Impregnator [F/m MILF mom shota incest underage happy]

    I had a terrible dream that night. Mr. Gorgev was groping Momma, from under the table. I stood near her, but I couldn't move. I could only watch his hand pawing Momma's blue dress. She looked up at me from her chair, but I couldn't tell what she wanted. She had sad eyes but her throat made the little sounds she had grunted when I sucked on her breasts.

    When I finally woke, my pee pee was very hard! I wanted to cum, but I knew I should save it. I launched myself from the couch and raced to the bathroom. Only when I turned the kitchen corner did I see Momma with a spatula in her hand.

    "My-my, and a good morning to you too!" She smiled as I passed.

    At the bathroom door I looked down, where she had looked. During my dash, my peter had slipped out the slit in my pajama bottoms. It stuck out like a pink banana. My cheeks grew hot, but they cooled after peeing.

    After, showering and dressing (I even combed my hair), I felt I could face Momma without blushing, my peter soft again behind zipped trousers. I put my PJs away in the bathroom's extra cabinet that my parents had bought for my clothes. I wore my best shirt and pants that morning.

    Returning to the kitchen, I asked Momma, "Would you take a picture of me, with your work phone?" It had a great camera.

    "Goodness, aren't you dolled up!" Mom stepped back a step. "Are you going to school, wearing that? I might have to keep you home, to prevent girls from taking you away from me." She grinned. "Did you meet a nice girl at school?"

    "Girls are dumb, Momma." I started, but I knew Momma wouldn't take the picture unless I told her why I had dressed up. I didn't want to tell her that I might have made babies for real, not just yet. If I told her the picture was for Jacqueline and Tara, she would ask more questions. I didn't want to lie to her. Then I remembered my ideas for making Mrs. Cherkle's cookies. "I'm going to use it for my cookie company website." I immediately promised myself to use the picture for that, after I had learned how and had made a web page.

    "This is news to me. But you'll have to buy your own ingredients, next time." She leaned down with that knowing smile. "You didn't bake or even mix anything last night, but I won't ask what was better than gingerbread cookies."

    My face burned again. I wanted to look away, but I needed that picture. I pointed at her phone which lie on the counter, charging. "Please?"

    "Of course, Billy." She plucked her phone and unplugged it. "I was just being silly." She stood me in front of the front door. It had an interesting design, a symmetric array of circles within squares carved into solid wood.

    "You look very handsome." She aimed the phone.

    My face was still warm from my blush, but because I smiled at her compliment, she took the picture. Afterwards, I changed back into my school clothes. The smell of pancakes greeted me, and I ran up to the counter and took a seat. She emailed the picture to me before picking up her fork.

    Momma was almost done with her cakes. "I kept yours warm in the oven."

    I dug in. When she had finished eating, she took her plate and utensils and rinsed them. "I'll wash everything when you're done." She went to the couch and began putting the sheets and blankets away.

    Suddenly remembering what I had hidden under a cushion, I cried out, "Stop, Momma, that's my job!"

    "It's no trouble, Billy. I feel like doing it this time- Oh." Mrs. Cherkle's panties fell out when Momma pulled the sheet tucked with it.

    The sudden silence made my heart pound. "Uh, that's not yours, Momma. Uh-" I remembered Daddy asking if I might have taken hers.

    She gave me the exact, sad look I'd seen in my dream. "I know, Honey. I don't wear this color." Momma resumed folding the sheet. She turned away from the blue panties on the carpet.

    My heart stopped for a second. I almost cried tears, while my mother continued to ignore the fallen panties and finish arranging the couch. "The Colkicks will be visiting today. Please take care of those before you leave for school." She even sounded sad.

    I dumped the uneaten half of my pancakes in the garbage and rinsed the dishes.

    Mother went to her bedroom to stow the bedclothes. Normally, they would sit on the back of the couch, but there would be guests today.

    I frowned at Mrs. Cherkle's panties before picking them up and putting them in my back pocket. I looked at my watch. There was time. I slowly stowed lunch and books into my backpack and put my arms through the straps.

    Momma peeked out of the bedroom. "Have a nice day at school."

    "Did you get new jobs?" I hadn't asked earlier because I didn't want her to go on any more jobs. My dream had soured me on the concept.

    "Not yet. The Colkicks want to discuss the first three, to see how we can make them as profitable as possible."

    I told myself to come home, straight away. I did want to see them, if they were still around by then. I hurried out the door. I found Mrs. Cherkle sweeping the entrance hall.

    "Good morning, Billy." Her eyes sparkled, and her smile beamed.

    "Hi, Mrs. Cherkle." I began with a smile, but it faded when I pulled her panties from my pocket. "You left these, uh, last night."

    "Oh." She blinked at them. "I thought you might like-" She gave a curt laugh. "Nevermind. Thank you." She accepted and tucked them in her apron pocket. "I hope you liked the cookies, at least." Her smile returned.

    "I'm going to have mine for lunch." I pointed at my backpack, glad that the awkwardness was fading. "Can you show me how to make them, at your place?"

    "Do you want to come over this afternoon?"

    "Maybe, but Momma's bosses are visiting today. I might not be able to, if they want to talk with me about our work."

    "Sounds, important." She nodded. "But you should know this, Billy. You are welcome to come to my home at anytime." Mrs. Cherkle paused, thinking. She pulled out a fob full of keys. "In fact, take this key for our apartment. You don't even have to knock. I want to see you whenever you feel like visiting." She deftly detached the key and offered it.

    "But that's your key."

    "There's a spare at home, and the door isn't locked." She bit her lip. "Please, Billy, I want you to have it."

    "What about Mr. Cherkle?"

    "What he thinks is not important. I had a long, decisive talk with him, last night. He won't be a problem from now on. I promise."

    I let her press the key into my hand. She smiled again. "Now you have a wonderful day in school, and I look forward to seeing you soon," She swallowed, "Or whenever you decide."

    With an uncertain heart, I walked outside and headed for school. Before I reached it, the Cherkle's apartment key jangled on my ring.

    That Friday was the end of my first two weeks of middle school. Before relegating my watch to my locker, I emailed the picture Momma took, to Tara. "See, it's me!" Hopeful, I started my school day.

    I worked on history, science, and math, in my morning classes. Mrs. Hennifer helped me when I asked but didn't favor me with anything except a slightly special smile.

    Between my first two classes, Steve passed by, patently ignoring me.

    Between my second two, I contemplated his mother's invite to spend time with them and the social worker.

    At lunch, I sought out Steve. He was eating with Al and Wendel. I walked up to them, "I want to talk with Steve."

    Wendel snorted. Al blurted, "As if."

    "Scram." Steve said, to both of them. "I don't need your help to deal with this brat."

    "What-evs." Wendel shook his head and stood up with his tray. He told Al, "We don't need to hear these two dick lovers."

    "But you're gay." Al swiped at his friend and got up.

    "Maybe. The verdict is still out on that." Wendel led his friend away.

    "Huh? Either you're gay or you're not."

    "You're such an idiot..." Their camaraderie faded into the cafeteria crowd.

    "Is this about Tuesday?" Steve probed.

    "Yeah, I guess."

    "Are you coming or not?"

    "I can't if Momma has work that day. I'll have to help her."

    Steve snorted. "You're such a fucking baby, calling your mom, Momma."

    "Well, uh, fuck, eh, you." I wanted to punch that turd's mouth. I liked saying, "Momma." The word made me feel closer to her than any other, and I love when she calls herself, "Momma," for me.

    Steve laughed harder. "You can barely say, 'fuck.' Does your momma disapprove? What a wimp!"

    I nearly did punch him then. I never should have approached him. I had wanted to avoid this kind of thing from happening at his house, to talk it out and let bygones be. This wasn't talking it out. This was making it worse. I didn't know what to do.

    "Giving the nerd kid a lesson in manliness, Steve?" Trish had walked up with her lunch tray, and we hadn't noticed.

    "Huh? Oh. Hey, Trish." Befuddled words responded out of Steve's mouth. I decided it was best to clam up and look innocent.

    Her eyes darted between us, as if piecing together a reason we would talk to each other. A slight grin took one corner of her lips, and she plunked her tray next to my lunch bag. She sat beside me, but her eyes settled on Steve. "I'm sorry about your dad, Steve. There are so many stupid rumors flying around, I wanted to ask you about it in person. Is it true, the nerd kid was there?"

    Steve's bravado collapsed like a ripped, hot air balloon. "I'm not suppose to talk about it." He glared at me.

    "Really? Does your mom disapprove?" Trish's eyes twinkled. She frowned. "Sorry. That was a dumb thing to say."

    Steve said, "Take a hike, Billy. Do whatever you want on Tuesday. I don't care."

    Trish's eyes angled in my direction, peeking around the corners of her sockets, while she faced Steve.

    I got up with my unopened paper bag and sighed. "We played video games, before his dad showed up, and then I went home." I was happier for the lie. I ate my lunch outside by myself. Technically, we had played video games before Mr. Dinty arrived, and after he returned the second time, I did go home. Funny how lies can be not-lies, sometimes.

    My thoughts about that day swirled enough that I forgot to fret about Ms. Laghari. However, she acted as if she had never stared at or ignored me for an entire period in the two days previous. She helped with my writing, just as friendly as she was with every student.

    After English, Mrs. Lum intercepted me as I walked to the P.E. changing room. "Hi Billy. Do you have a minute talk in my office?" She knew there was plenty of time.

    "Yes, Ma-am." I followed her there.

    She shut the door. "Thank you, Billy, for being honest with me."

    Mrs. Lum could only be talking about what I'd admitted doing with Ms. Hennifer.

    "I owe the same to you. When you said you were having sex with Gloria, I was stung with jealousy. I didn't want to believe it, and I hoped I would find her at fault." Mrs. Lum frowned. "No. I didn't bring it up with her, but there is a way to get enough facts to support her innocence. I'm now confident, whatever happened between you was entirely consensual." She hesitated. "I-I'm happy for you."

    "Uh, thank you?" I tried, not sure how to take her revelation.

    She sniffed, "Go on. I have to start class on time."

    There was still plenty of time. I sensed her sadness. I was sexually involved with another women, but I didn't want the women I played with to be unhappy. Making babies is suppose to be good for everyone involved. I needed to reassure her.

    I got up, as if to obey being dismissed. Passing close to her, I grabbed her wrist and twisted it, in the way she had taught her class a couple days ago. She grunted. My other hand took her elbow and locked the arm behind her back, forcing her to bend over her desk. I remembered, in the same class, she had taught the release for this lock. She knew how to escape. I hoped she would hear me before she slipped free. "You're special, Mrs. Lum. I'll never be able to do to Ms. Hennifer, what you let me do."

    She didn't immediately escape. I held the lock with one hand and pushed my free hand down the back of her sweatpants. "This puss is going to get raped again. I promise." I stuck a few fingers into the crotch panel of her large panties." Her body jolted at the intrusion, which unintentionally tightened the lock on her arm.

    Mrs. Lum winced and squeaked. "But Billy-"

    I cut her off. "We don't have time right now, but you better lock your doors and windows, now that I know where you live." My fingers worked their way around the panel to touch her hairy, sweaty vulva. I rubbed it slowly.

    "Mmmm." She grunted. "I-I told you, I have the most trouble doing that on Monday nights."

    "I know. So you better be extra careful."

    "Hhhh-yes, Billy. I'll try, ngh, Monday nn-night, but nobody's perfect."

    I let go of her arm and pulled my hand out of her pants. "See you in class." I strode out of her office.

    "Yes, Billy. Uh, thank-" The door shut. In her class, that day, she taught even more joint locks and escapes.

    My last class was art and music. Darrin returned our tests. I did okay, but not as well as I thought. He told everybody, "After scoring your exam, none of you should consider serenading anyone with your music skills or designing love letters."

    The whole class tittered. We sang and drew, at one point both at the same time.

    I burst out of class at the end, having prepped after P.E, to leave. I jogged home, hoping to catch the Colkicks. I caught something entirely unexpected, when I quietly unlocked the apartment door and entered.

    "OOWW!" A man yelped!

    "Are you sure?" A woman asked, from the living room. "He'd learn better if you did it."

    "I'm not sure he did anything wrong." Momma answered. Her voice was heavy with breath.

    I froze at her voice. What was happening? I did manage to close the door, as quietly as I entered.

    "Perhaps he didn't, but our contract states that in the case of any doubt, he is liable."

    Momma hesitated. "I-I just never thought our agreement could be interpreted like - like this."

    CRACK! "OOWW."

    I dared to peek around the corner of the entry way. Mr. Colkick was bent over one of the couch's armrests. He was dressed similarly to when Momma and I had visited him. Except his pants and briefs were down around his knees.

    Ms. Colkick stood over him holding a slim, leather stick with a broad flap at the end. She struck his flaming red, naked ass with the flap. It cracked sharply!

    "Ooohh!"

    "Thank me, Harold, and Ms. Androni."

    "Y-yes, Angela. Thank you, Executive. Thank you, Faun."

    "You're only asking for more, if you don't show sufficient sincerity." Ms. Colkick warned.

    "I'm grateful!" He cried. "I am. I deserve to be corrected. I want to be business partners with you, until you choose otherwise." He told my mom.

    His wife smirked at her, on the sly. "What do you think? Sincere?"

    Momma was taking deep breaths. "I think, hhh, Billy might get home at any minute." Her head turned, and her eyes locked on to mine. They widened, for a second before breaking away and re-engaging Ms. Cherkle. "Maybe, I should visit you, for our next meeting." Her voice lilted.

    I ducked back into the entry way. I didn't dare leave. They'd know, now that I had been spotted!

    "You're our star employee, Faun. We'll do anything to support your work for the company."

    "So I've seen!" Momma gave a incredulous smile.

    "Pull your pants up, Harold. It's time to go home."

    "Yes, Executive." He didn't sound as happy as I expected. Had he enjoyed the spanking? That was an concept I had read somewhere but certainly had never experienced. Making babies after being spanked or having given a spanking, was worth it, most times, in my experience. A spanking itself was terrible without loving aftercare.

    When the sound of ruffling clothes stopped, followed by a faint click, Momma said. "I think I hear the door now."

    Catching her cue, I reached for the knob and opened the door. "Hello?" I called out.

    "We're in here, Billy." Momma answered.

    "Whew." I heard Mr. Colkick sigh.

    "Billy, join us. We've missed you." Ms. Colkick invited. "I'm so glad you're here before we had to go."

    I plunked down my pack. I had been wearing it since my actual arrival. I walked in, unable to stop from blushing.

    "Isn't he the most darling?" Ms. Colkick smiled sweetly. "Let me hug you." She opened her arms.

    I flashed a question mark at Momma. She blinked, half smiling, half processing, then nodded.

    Entering the hug cautiously, I noticed Mr. Colkick's face was redder than mine. "Hi-" He coughed, "Billy."

    Ms. Colkick was warm and soft. Her breasts pressed gently around my neck. There was no sign of the spanking stick she had used, but there was a large handbag beside the couch. She whispered into my ear. "Have you worn out that picture of me, yet?"

    I looked up. Her eyes twinkled. "Uh, no, Ma-am." I answered softly. How could anyone wear out a digital picture?

    "Well, let me know when you do." She let go.

    "May I sit, Exe- um, Angela?"

    "It's your bum, Harold." She smiled at him.

    Mr. Colkick winced slightly upon sinking into a plush cushion. I had felt similarly grateful in similar circumstances. My family may have been poor, but we traded quantity for quality. I loved the softness of my couch-bed. He bade me to sit with him. "I'd like to hear what you think of the two clients you helped your mother serve."

    Again, I silently sought Momma's affirmation.

    I sat. "What do you want to know?"

    "How did they treat you?"

    "Okay, but Mr. Kampold was rude to Momma."

    He winced at the mention. "Yes, we're going to make changes, to ensure that doesn't happen again."

    "Harold, it's not like you can control a client's mind." My mother came to his rescue. "It wasn't a big deal. I'd work for them again."

    "I didn't like it, Momma."

    "I know, Sweetheart, but you were very helpful when you gave me time to sort that out with him." She meant, when I was making a baby in Ms. Kampold, not that she knew we were doing that.

    Ms. Colkick interjected, "We promise to make all clients aware of our harassment policy. From now on, everyone will have to sign the service agreement, not just the primary contact. In fact, we'll make them take a test to prove they read it."

    "That is reasonable." Momma agreed.

    Mr. Colkick asked me quickly, as if to change a painful subject. "What do you think we should do to make our customers and you and your mother happier?"

    "Serve cookies!" I brightened.

    "Huh?"

    "I'll show you." I leaped up and darted to the kitchen. "I'll get more, Momma, if I can give these to the Colkicks. I returned with the Momma and Daddy cookies Mrs. Cherkle had left last night. I had eaten the little man for lunch.

    "Go ahead. I'm sure they'll enjoy them."

    "Okay." Ms. Colkick accepted hers.

    "Thank you." Her husband said.

    They took modest bites and began to chew. "These are good." Mr. Colkick bit deeper into his.

    "They are." Ms. Colkick agreed. "But I'm not sure I understand, Billy. Are these your mother's?"

    "A friend made them, but I'm going learn how. I want to sell them to Momma's customers. And then I'll sell them on the internet, and maybe make a stand on the sidewalk, and sell them with lemonade!"

    "Ah."

    Momma put her hand on my shoulder. "That's sweet, Billy. Unfortunately, that's not how Meals on Heel's works."

    "He has a point." Ms. Colkick opined.

    "We don't sell our customers extras, Billy. Let me explain." Mr. Colkick took another bite and talked with his mouth full. "Have you played games that pressured you to buy coins or gems, even though the game was free?"

    "Microtransactions." I nearly spit. It was a curse word at school.

    Ms. Colkick grinned. "Do you like those kinds of games?"

    "I liked a couple of them, until I had to pay to get stronger."

    "We don't like them either." Mr. Colkick continued. "When a client hires you and your mother, they pay for everything, once, up front. Your mother's skills are worth a lot of money and we're not afraid to charge customers for every penny of it, plus significant profit for the company."

    "Huh." I stuck my little finger in my ear, from frustration. I wanted to get rich making cookies!

    "That's enough, Harold. You missed what's important about Billy's ambition." Ms. Colkick faced me as seriously as I had ever seen her. "We should be paying you, for working with your mother."

    "Angela, I'm not sure-" Momma began.

    "I won't intrude on your authority, Faun." Ms. Colkick's voice cut.

    Momma flinched and leaned slightly away from the female boss who continued, "This is your call. You need to know, however, that Harold and I will happily split some of our earnings, never yours though, for Billy. Your share is ironclad by contract. It doesn't have to be in a liquid form. It could be routed to a college fund, for example."

    "I-I'll think about it." Uncertainty seeped out of Momma's words.

    Liquid money? I didn't understand. I let the grownups talk. More importantly, I wanted to contemplate if mother was a little afraid of Ms. Colkick. Had she been mean to Momma? I couldn't imagine that. Why did Momma react that way to her? Maybe because Ms. Colkick was her boss? That answer made sense.

    "What else would you like to tell us?" Mr. Colkick asked, nearly finished with his cookie. Mother fetched two napkins.

    "I don't want Momma to leave me behind, ever again."

    The strange atmosphere between Ms. Colkick and my mother intensified. "Your mother told us about her work for Mr. Gorgev, earlier today. Did you miss her that much?"

    I had to tell the truth. "Yes, but if I had been there, Mr. Gorgev wouldn't have spilled on her dress. I would have protected her!"

    "Billy, it was a simple accident. To protect me, I would have had to wear you like an apron!" Momma laughed at her description.

    I quieted at the terrible thing that occurred to me.

    "I'm sorry, Billy, but your mother has full say about when and if you accompany her." Ms. Colkick admitted. She picked up her bag and offered it to her husband. He finished his cookie, wiped his hands and mouth with the napkin and accepted the large handbag. It looked a little silly on him.

    "Thank you, Faun, and thank you very much, my good man for speaking your mind." Ms. Colkick offered another hug.

    I went into it as cautiously as I had the first, but I liked the feel of her breasts on my neck. My pee pee got a little hard. "It was nice to see you." I said aloud.

    She whispered, "If you want to see more, let me know."

    Farewells lasted another minute, before they left for their home. Mother shut the door and let out a loud, long sigh. "They are wonderful people, Billy."

    I was standing in the living room, from where I saw Momma slump her back against the door.

    My mind roiled with strange thoughts about what I'd seen happen to Mr. Colkick and what he and his wife had talked about, but the worst was my realization, Momma hadn't been wearing her apron when Mr. Gorgev spilled on her.

    "What made you suddenly so quiet around them?" Momma asked calmly.

    My watch answered before I could, with a ding-ding and vibration. It was an email from Jacqueline!

    "Tara told me it was you, my big, little man. I love you so much, Billy! Thank you!" It continued. "Tara will probably write the same thing, when she picks her jaw up from the floor. We never imagined- not one but both of us! You're amazing! love, love, love, Jacqueline"

    My heart raced, reading every word.

    "Billy?" Momma asked, trying to sound like she wasn't snooping.

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    Re: Shota Impregnator [F/m MILF mom shota incest underage happy]

    My heart was flying, hearing again from my first girlfriend! Mother's voice sounded a mile away. She didn't repeat herself but simply waited. We lived in the same apartment, and unless my heart flew me through a window, I would have to answer her.

    The problem was, I had seen how sad Momma looked when she saw Mrs. Cherkle's panties this morning. In my dream, where she gave the same look, I had been helpless. If I told her about Jacqueline, I feared she would get so sad I wouldn't be able to cheer her up. Maybe that's why she didn't want to know about my escapades. I had to choke back my joy, and figure out how to answer her.

    Lying to the person I loved most would hurt me. She wanted to know about my sudden retreat into silence around the Cherkles. Or was she more curious about the time I spent reading my watch? I couldn't be sure, maybe both. I decided I had to tell her a truth, if not THE truth. Is a misleading truth too much like a lie? I didn't know. I didn't like my options. Would I mislead her, less deviously if I answered with a question?

    "Momma, was my plan to sell cookies, dumb?" I tried to sound more like a boy than the man I wanted to be. It wasn't too hard to do, grr.

    "It was as good a plan as any, Billy. You just didn't have enough facts to consider when you planned it." She stopped leaning on the door and stepped closer. "Even the best plans fail when something important is missed." She brightened. "I'm proud that you told them. Ms. Colkick realized how valuable you are to their business, when you expressed your ambition to work hard to make money."

    Yeah, they had said they would start paying me for my work. I let some of my happiness bleed into my face.

    "I have something more important to talk about." Momma walked past me. "Let's sit on the couch." She took the far cushion. By coincidence, I sat where Mr. Cherkle had. The cushion was very warm. Momma bit her lip. "You saw what Ms. Cherkel was doing to her husband, when you first got home, didn't you?"

    Her question was too specific to avoid or misdirect. She had caught me looking even. "Yes, Momma." Worry replaced some of my joy. I looked at my hands.

    "Would you like to know the facts about it?"

    "I guess." I did want to know. Foremost, I wanted to know what she was doing while Ms. Cherkle used that wicked looking spanker.

    The Cherkles have a relationship that's very different from your father and I. When they married, the most important aspect of their lives together was the business they wanted create. They worked for years to establish the groundwork for Meals on Heels.

    "What does that have to do with spanking him?" I heard myself ask boldly. Spanking had become a part of my life, from both sides of the act, but I couldn't fathom how it related to business.

    She smiled, suddenly amused. "When they married, Harold made Angela promise that she would correct any mistakes he made, by physically punishing him."

    "Why did they do it here?"

    "I think it was because they trust me. If I know a secret like that about them, and I'm still willing to work for them, they can trust me even more."

    "W-would they ever try to punish you, if you made a mistake?"

    "That's not part of their agreement." Mother answered inconclusively. "Besides," Momma gave a little laugh. "I don't make mistakes."

    Something inside me burst, like a hot firecracker. "You weren't wearing your apron, when Mr. Gorgev spilled himself on you!" The accusation flew out of my mouth, tearing more of my happiness away. I instantly regretted what I'd said. Why didn't I say "soup" instead of "himself?" Now she would know what I had hated most about what that wicked man had done to her!

    Momma became very quiet and still.

    I frowned and cried, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make you sad."

    "Don't be sorry." Her voice was like vapor lacking any strength. "A man has a right to worry about the people he loves. I prayed that you would forget what happened, but my heart knows, it was not something I can ask you to forgive."

    "But I want to forgive you, Momma. It was his fault!"

    Lip firmly between her teeth, she shook her head. "No, Billy. Mr. Gorgev played his part, but I could have prevented my dress from being spattered."

    I was almost in tears. It could never be Momma's fault! "You did it for Daddy, then." She had given the dress to him that night.

    That surprised her. She blinked, probably rethinking what she thought I knew about Daddy's fantasies. "That is true to some extent, but not enough to turn the blame from me." She took a long breath, held it, and told the awful truth.

    "Mr. Gorgev has a very strong personality, Billy. He told me to take off my apron. So he could show your father how much a man he was."

    "NOO!!" I flailed my arms, striking Momma's thigh several times. She shuddered under the impacts but didn't say anything. Instead, she reached out and pulled me to her.

    I resisted, "No! NO!"

    "I'm sorry, Billy. I knew what happened would hurt you terribly. That's why I only told enough of the truth to mislead you."

    "I hate you!" I was crying.

    "You don't hate me, Billy. You can hit me as much as you need, to unload your pain. I deserve it, because I've injured your love for me."

    My fists fell to the cushion. I sobbed and sobbed into her arms. She held me for a long time.

    In my crushed happiness, I let slip something else that was troubling me. "I don't want to go to Steve's house on Tuesday. He's a butt head. I tried to make peace, but he was mean."

    "You don't have to. I'll phone Mrs. Dinty."

    "Not right now, Momma." I reached around her and hugged her to me. We held each other in silence.

    After a while, she asked, "Are you hungry?"

    "No."

    "Okay."

    Darkness started to be drawn across the sky.

    "You gotta take me with you, every time you work, Momma."

    "I will, Billy. If you get sick, I'll cancel the job. I'll never leave you behind again."

    My watch gave a Ding-Ding and buzzed. Tara had sent her email. I ignored it.

    "You must be making lots of friends." She nodded at my watch. "Steve is very confused right now, and his mother and social worker think you might be important to helping him become a better person, but - fuck him, Billy." Mother had never sworn like that! "You deserve friends who care about making you a better person."

    Her cursing made me laugh! But my sadness returned. Earlier, after the Cherkles had left, I intentionally refrained from making Momma sad. That was before her admission had crushed the happiness from Jacqueline's message.

    I would answer her and Tara, later, but the thought came to me, did Momma deserve some of the sadness I was feeling? She had said she deserved my hitting her. Maybe it was time to show Momma how much of a man I had become.

    But maybe not, I deeply regretted striking out of anger. However, a compulsion claimed my heart. She was in the perfect state to convince, once and for all, to respect my beliefs in what was best for her.

    I had been helpless, in my dream, where Mr. Gorgev's hand gave her sadness but also made her whimper from pleasure. I must never be unable to save her in the real world.

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    Re: Shota Impregnator [F/m MILF mom shota incest underage happy]

    I let go of Momma and pulled out of her hug, as I wrestled with my conscience. She sighed, and folded her hands on her lap. She sensed my inner conflict, occasionally glancing at me. When not peeking, her face said she was also dealing with difficult emotions.

    "Did you wash your dress today?" I finally asked.

    "Mmm?" The question was unexpected. "I did. I brought it back from the dry cleaners before the Colkicks arrived.

    "I want you to go and get it."

    "Um, okay." She rose from the couch but winced, suddenly clutching her thigh. She shook off the pain and went to her room.

    Had I bruised it through her skirt? My regret increased but so did my resolve. Momma had prayed that I would forget what Mr. Gorgev had done. I wanted to forget, but how could I?

    My art teacher, Darrin, once talked about mindfullness, how to settle our thoughts before drawing. He said artists should draw upon their emotions instead of their thoughts. Thoughts were great for technical writing and putting furniture together, but they clouded the deeper meaning of emotions. "Art lets people express the depth of the human heart."

    A girl, who always wore black, asked him, "I don't like the emotions I feel when I stop thinking. They're scary."

    "Candice, I'm sorry that happens for you. Know that you are amazing, and that you can overcome scary memories or emotions. And I am so glad you told me.

    There are many ways to deal with negative feelings that arise when you are being mindful. I'll mention one, but the school councilor, Ms. Basha, knows many more. Every student should talk with her, at least once this semester." He grinned, "It's the best way to skip class, when you're not feeling like being at school. Ms. Basha will give you a permission slip when you talk with her." He knit his eyebrows and scowled, "Just don't skip my class."

    We laughed. He followed, "I'm kidding. If you do spend time with her, my job and your accomplishments in my class, will become a lot easier. Seriously, you can talk with her about anything!"

    Candice may have scary emotions, but she wasn't afraid to remind him, "What's the way you promised to tell us?"

    "Yes, excuse my digression," He cleared his throat. "We all experience scary thoughts, from time to time. When that happens, it's okay to admit what you're feeling. That's the first step to dealing with the hurt they bring.

    "The second step is to imagine a different version of what caused the scary feelings. Use your imagination to create a version where you are in control of what happened, and think about that instead. The method doesn't always work, but it's easy to try, and it won't make your feelings any worse."

    Momma returned from her bedroom. She held the dress up. It hung from a wire hanger, draped in clear plastic. "See, there's nothing left of what happened. You don't have to think about it ever again."

    Maybe she knew the truth but wanted to reassure me in the most straightforward way. Unfortunately, telling someone to stop thinking about a thing, never works. What Mr. Gorgev had done (I still had trouble blaming Momma) could not be tamed by imagination alone, I had to do something to overcome the hurt inside of me.

    "You have to take off your clothes, now, and put the dress on." I spoke with all the authority my sadness and desire could muster.

    "I don't think that's a good idea. You need time to heal-"

    "Don't argue, Momma." I interrupted without anger. "Just change."

    "Um," She looked down briefly. "Yes, Billy." She lay the dress over an armrest and reached for the buttons of her blouse. Each time she unbuttoned one, she blushed and looked away, before her eyes returned to me. In both glistening orbs, a single spark flashed with each release. Her hands loosened the last button, and she slowly drew the front of her blouse apart. Seeing her beautiful, flat tummy and crinkled bellybutton, always warmed my heart. The appearance of her soft, filled brassiere made my pee pee harden.

    Her hands moved down to her skirt. She quickly unfastened its clasp, but her hand hesitated to pull the zipper tab. "Billy, are you sure?"

    "Yes, Momma. I need you to wear the dress."

    "I-if you really need it, I won't resist." Her hand completed unzipping her skirt. She pushed it off of her hips and rear. It fell to the carpet, leaving her plain, white panties visible. A triangular shadow hid behind them, between her thighs which sported faint bruises. My lips pursed tight with regret. She reached for the dress.

    "Momma." I called abruptly.

    Her hand hung in mid-air. "Yes?"

    "I told you to take off your clothes."

    "I did." She looked at her the blouse and skirt on the floor. When she gave me a puzzled look, I didn't say anything. "You meant, naked?"

    "Yes, Momma."

    "But this dress is suppose to be paired with lingerie. The brassiere helps to fill out that part. Without a bra," Momma gulped. "The dress could scratch me." She meant, scratch her beautiful breasts.

    My penis lurched stronger at the idea that her gorgeous dress might hurt her. My mind rationalized that she had said that she deserved to be hurt. "You have to take that chance, Momma. If you aren't naked, you might not learn your lesson well enough."

    "You want to teach me something?" Momma sniffed, perhaps to hold back tears.

    "This is for both of us, Momma." I told her. "You have to do what I tell you, for a little while."

    "I-I guess I should trust you." Her voice had no strength. She reached behind her back, to unhook the strap crossing it. I heard two tiny snaps, and then her bra sank forward, held only by her shoulder straps. She shrugged them off and let it drop on the couch. Two beautiful, caramel tipped breasts hung before me. She shivered from the cool air striking her bare skin, and they jostled delightfully. The sight made my peter very hard. Her face grew bright red.

    Her hands gripped opposite sides of the waistband of her full panties. They peeled them down, over her hips and around her bum. The dark bush protecting her sex sprouted out, hair by hair, as she carefully removed the last of her garments. They ended in a heap around her feet, surrounded by the skirt I had made her shuck.

    "You're really beautiful, Momma." I wasn't trying to be mean, I was a little, but I wanted her to know that I was doing this because I loved her.

    She blushed, deepening the scarlet already flush in her cheeks. "Thank you." When she reached for the dress, I didn't stop her. She had to remove the plastic cover up and over the hanger to free it. After taking it off of the hanger, Momma lifted the hem and bunched it above her head. For a second, the sky blue dress formed a shimmering halo.

    Then she wriggled her arms up through it, and she shifted her head until it dropped over her face and surrounded her shoulders. I heard her wince, as the skirt part fell down her torso. Had it scratched her?

    Her arms found the short sleeves and worked their way into them as the dress sank past her hairy cleft and bruised thigh. She winced again when the top part slipped around her chest, and her breasts fitted into the space for them. Momma had spoke the truth. With a bra, the dress showed her bust boldly, sharply. Without one, the front part sat loose across her chest, forming what looked like a frown sticking out unhappily.

    Momma stopped wriggling and flinching, when the dress had settled as well as it could. She stepped 90 degrees which caused a squeak before she asked, "Do you want to zip me up?"

    The zipper down her back revealed a tall vee of her creamy skin. "No." I sat up straight on the couch cushion. The lump in my pants was visible to the room. At first, I thought I should sit down for her lesson. She would have lean over me. I decided, standing would be more effective. I got up and faced her.

    She turned to me. Her open zipper faced a wall. "It's not as pretty without-" She quieted mid sentence.

    "That's okay, Momma. What you need to do now is come here and get on your knees."

    "Yes, Billy." She stepped slowly to me, searched my resolute expression with cow eyes, and bent her knees. My mother sank before me, unable to deny how I reacted to her allure and suffering. She tried looking away from my bulging, school pants.

    "Momma, I have to cum on your dress. I can't stand what that terrible man did. I have to overcome it, and put my mark on it and you. Afterwards, I can think of doing this instead of what he did."

    Mother's eyes opened wide and twisted up. "Th-that's why." She exhaled. "I didn't understand. Please forgive my dithering, Billy. You're right. This may be the only way. I want you to cum on me and my dress, if that will help you escape what I let happen." Her red face cooled.

    "You have to make this happen, Momma." I told her and crossed my arms over my chest.

    "Uh," She looked back at the curve stretching out from my pants. Her voice quieted. "Okay."

    I watched my mother reach for the button of my trousers. She unfastened it after an initial fumble. Then she unzipped me and pulled the vee apart. Next her fingers went to the slit in my shorts.

    "No, Momma. You have to pull them down."

    She took a deep breath. Her face turned red again. "My beautiful, young man." Momma lifted her face, showing a wan smile. Her hands grabbed both waistbands and gradually slid them down my butt and thighs. My full prick bobbed out, like a finger wagging disapproval. Momma flinched back, then winced.

    "Did it hurt you?" I worried.

    "Your penis didn't, but this dress-" She tried shrugging her shoulders to loosen it around her chest but only provoked it. She gave a small sharp cry.

    "You'll have to do your best, Momma." I imagined little teeth inside the frown of her dress, biting her soft flesh and rubbery nipples, each time she moved. My dick got so hard it stopped wobbling.

    "Yes, Billy." She reached for my solid penis and sparsely haired scrotum.

    "You have to make me cum."

    "I know." She huffed a deep breath. When her hand wrapped my turgid flesh, I moaned. She puffed, "I want you to cum on Momma, all over this dress. I want you to wash away the bad memory." Her hand stroked me, slowly at first.

    "I want to too. Mmmm." Her hand felt almost as nice as a warm, wet pussy.

    Except it wasn't wet, she realized. "I should get the coconut oil."

    "It's okay, Momma. It won't take long, I don't think." My groin was already swarming with good sensations.

    "I don't want to hurt you, not any more." My mother kept jacking her hand up and down my smooth, dry prick, but her eyebrows knitted in thought. "You need something..." I saw her cheeks bump out, briefly, as if her tongue swirled inside her mouth.

    Her lips pouted, surprising me with an incredible kiss upon the head of my cock! Spit gushed out, and her pumping hand spread it over the length of my manhood, so quickly, she didn't spill a single drop. The warm hand glided over my erection, slick with her hot spit. "How does that feel?"

    "Wonderful, Momma!" I groaned. I would have cum, if I hadn't suppressed the urge. I didn't want to spill cum into Momma's mouth. That would be gross!

    Her hand sped up, but before she pulled her face away, her lips gave the bulbous tip another, longer kiss which ejected a second load of hot saliva.

    I barely held back the intense reaction in my balls and the base of my glistening prick. "OOoooohhh!" I cried, from the pleasure pulsing out from the rhythm of Momma's swift hand.

    "Are you close?" She asked. Not waiting for a reply, she leaned back and pushed out her chest, under the tip of my steaming pistol. She gave a louder cry as the dress scratched across her bare titties beneath.

    "Yes, Momma! I feel it strong. I can't hold back any more!"

    "Don't hold back, Honey. Give Momma your cum. Soak this dress and me. Mark us with your semen, Baby." Her hand raced on my prick, jacking up the pressure in my loins. I floated above my insecurity at the word, "Baby."

    "It's sooo good!!!" I wailed. My hips humped against her strokes, trying to absorb every sensation and increase them. "Aaaa - aaa - aa!" I began to stutter. The room spun around. Momma kept urging me, forcing me to focus on the task I had begun. I mustn't fail to hit the target. Momma had been a large presence for most of my life. Looking down at her worried face and upthrust chest, she seemed very small and vulnerable, presenting her body completely to my demand, despite the little teeth gnawing on her breasts and nipples, as her thrusting arm caused her dress to shift left and right across them. Her lips formed a sustained wince.

    I don't know how large the urethral bulb is, but it felt as if all the cum in my balls was packed into it, desperate to contribute to the defiling of my mother.

    My body lurched, and I groaned. "UUhhhhhnnnhhhh!!!" My hips bucked forward, and Momma knew it was time. Her hand levered my stiff cock to the optimal angle.

    "AAAAHHHH!!" Two orifices exploded. My mouth burst, "I'm cumminggg!!!"

    My prick spat a huge, roiling blob of thick cum which slammed into Momma's chest. Hot sperm spattered in every direction, even dotting her chin.

    A second, bigger glob launched and struck beside the first. Off white splashed over blue polyester. "Oooohhh!" I grunted. Momma's hand kept jacking, slower to be sure my aim was true.

    My dick hurled thick missiles again and again, as lights exploded in my head and sent shockwaves of ecstasy through my body. I cried out from every pulse of sperm. Each flew at different velocities, landing up and down the front of that awful, blue reminder. They splashed and splattered, slowly soaking into the stain resistant material.

    "Cover this dress, Billy! Cover Momma with your cum! Wash away that terrible event." She pulled and pulled, trying to extract every drop from my balls.

    A dozen spatters dotted her face, neck and forearms. Additional projectiles jetted from my spasming penis. Semen darkened the entire front of the expensive costume. It was enough I felt, but Momma looked too clean by comparison. I struck her hand from my spitting tool and aimed it higher.

    Two final globs flew out of the tip and struck her nose and cheek. Her eyelids clamped shut for protection as splashes swept across her face. But there was more. I knew how my ejaculations proceeded. I took one step and thrust the tip of my cock into the top of her dress. Cum, more liquid than gooey, poured out, drenching her naked chest behind the dress. I waggled my softening, oozing peter, to spread the hot goo all over.

    "Oh, Billy. That feels so nice..." Momma cooed, "...on my poor boobs!"

    "This is mine, Momma." I told her. My love demanded total ownership. "I marked you and this dress with my cum. Nobody can do this to you, ever again."

    "Yes, Billy!" She snapped enthusiastically, at first.

    I pulled out from the top of her dress and wiped the cum dripping from me, against a clean part of her face. The intensity of my orgasm started to fade.

    "But what about your father?" Momma abruptly worried.

    I loved my father, and he and Momma loved each other. The pleasure swirling through my nervous system ebbed further. "No, Momma." I felt sadness telling her the truth. "You can't let Daddy cum on you, for a while, at least. This has to be mine, to make it mean more than what that man said." Mr. Gorgev had told her to show Daddy how much of a man her client was.

    Mother had not forgotten those terrible words. "Yes, Billy. You're right, but I wish it wasn't so. You know that."

    "I know." I frowned.

    "Only you can cum on me." She interpreted my demand, making me realize I could do it again, any time I wanted. That was a worrisome ability. I might joyously spend all of my cum, every day on Momma and her once more blemished dress. I'd never have semen left over to make babies.

    Overcoming the nightmare of Mr. Gorgev had felt tremendous, better than making babies, even though it had been a handjob at its simplest. I think I would have made the right choice, to save my sperm, if I hadn't remembered what felt better than any kind of sex. The first two women I had made babies with were now pregnant with my children. It was the best proof that I was a potent man.

    Absentmindedly, one of my fingers dipped into the cum cooling on Momma's cheek. It plucked a single drop and pressed it to her lips. My softening erection gave a final twitch at the naughtiness of what I did. Momma licked her lips clean, of that and the other spots that had spattered across them. Her eyes briefly sparkled.

    "I'm hungry, Momma." I declared. She had remained on her knees, waiting to be dismissed. Cum oozed down her face. Splashes of semen continued to darken her dress as my sperm wriggled in search of an egg only to find a tragic end.

    She put a hand on my hip and used my stance to struggle up. She acted like her strong spirit had abandoned her. A weak smile thanked me. "Ms. Colkick brought a basket of fruit. I'll make it into a salad and cook hot dogs and onions."

    "Mmmm." Hot dogs and caramelized onions were a favorite. I felt reborn and very hungry."

    She shuffled into the kitchen, careful not to drip my cum anywhere but on her dress.

    I pulled up my pants and shut in my exhausted pee pee. Feeling nearly as spent as my mother, I reclined on the couch and tapped up Tara's email.

    "I'M SOO SORRY, BILLY! Please forgive me. I wanted to believe, but you can't imagine how many frauds tried to take advantage of our brief notoriety. I had to make Jackie swear not to read her emails, until I vetted them. At work she is so responsible, but privately, she's a push over." <winking face>.

    "Thank you so much for persisting through the barriers I threw at you. You've made me the happiest girl alive. I can say that because Jackie only ever calls herself a woman." <stick out tongue face>

    "If you can forgive me, I want to hear from you as soon as possible. I love you Billy. If you can't, you had better keep in touch with Jackie, or I will hunt you down and tickle you to death!" <huge staring eyes face>

    "Tara"

    I heard Momma humming in the kitchen. The happy sound helped to soothe the regret I felt for making her jack me off and making her wear a dress that hurt her while she did it.

    Supper was a short while away, but there would be enough time to reply to the first women to receive my babies.

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