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Alan felt bad. Horrible, actually. Physically, he was a wreck. First, he'd pretty much fucked the afternoon away, and that was only the culmination of a very busy sex-filled day. His body was exhausted. His penis was lifeless and sore. Not only that, but now he had to bicycle back home from Kim's house, and it was a long and hilly ride.
But worse than all that, he felt bad mentally and emotionally. He knew that he'd screwed up. The plan for the SA-Club had been to surprise Sean with the display of anal sex with Heather, and then leave not long after that, leaving Sean and the remaining girls to have fun with each other. But he'd gotten sucked in and completely forgotten that it was a Tuesday.
Now that he was bicycling home alone (Sean having soon split off to go to his own neighborhood), all he could think about was the fact that Susan was undoubtedly waiting for him, waiting to play. But he was sure there was simply no way he could get sexually aroused. He'd come to know just what his penis could and couldn't do, and there was no doubt that it would need a few hours of rest at least before it could show any signs of life again. He needed a couple hours of rest generally speaking, thanks to his body's continuing energy problems. He prayed that Susan would be understanding and allow him a nap. Then he'd do his best to sexually pleasure her in the time remaining before his planned "non-romantic" dinner date with Christine.
He cycled home as fast as he could to have more nap time, but ironically that only left him more in need of a nap.
Alan parked his bicycle in the garage and dragged himself into the house. He was sweaty from the ride and so tired that he could hardly put one foot in front of the other. He heard clanging sounds in the kitchen and knew that had to be Susan.
He considered going straight up to his bedroom and avoiding the kitchen altogether, hoping not to see his mother until after he woke from his nap. But he knew that would be cowardly and unfair. He needed to apologize for his current state and promise her better things for the evening and the night. After all, tonight would be the first time he was officially scheduled to sleep in the same bed as his mother the whole night long. He knew he was going to need a lot of energy for that big event.
He shuffled into the kitchen and looked around.
Susan was over by the dishwasher, standing with her back to him, putting clean glasses away in the cupboard. She was wearing her French maid uniform for a change, the skirt of which barely concealed her behind, and her high heels. She was standing almost ramrod straight with her feet together, presenting him with a perfect view of her long shapely legs from behind, as she transferred the last few clean glasses from the upper rack of the dishwasher to the cupboard. She was even whistling a happy little tune that he had heard before somewhere, but in his current state of exhaustion he was too tired to try and place it.
Ordinarily, the sight of his mother in her French maid outfit would have gotten a quick rise out of his penis, but he was in no shape for that. He coughed to clear his throat and said, "Hi Mommy. I've got some bad news. I'm soooo tired. So very tired. Some things kind of came up that I couldn't get out of. I know it's a Tuesday and everything, but would you mind if I take a nap first? I promise I'll make it up to you tonight. Everything has just hit me all at once and I literally can barely even stand on my own two feet."
To his surprise, Susan didn't turn around, say anything, or even give the slightest sign she'd heard him. In fact, the only thing she did was to close the cupboard and dishwasher, and then continue standing there silent and erect, with her back to him.
He felt horrible. This morning before he'd left for school, he'd promised Susan that there would be some motherfucking when he got home, and instead he'd gone and exhausted himself in an orgy with a bunch of cheerleaders. If there was one overarching guide for his behavior his entire life, it was to always do his best so he'd never disappoint his loving mother. But he tried to justify himself by the fact that sometimes his penis had its limits.
He knew he could walk over and fondle her ass cheeks with his weary hands, and maybe even rub his completely flaccid penis up and down her labia and butt crack. He might even somehow rouse up enough energy to eat her out. But he knew that would be disappointing for both of them. She wanted a deep and profound filling of hard throbbing cock, and anything less wouldn't do.
He turned and began to walk back out of the kitchen to his room, but he kept his head turned back, looking at the hinted curves of her ass so temptingly peeking out from under her skirt, and looking to see if she'd turn and react. She didn't.
He'd almost left the room when Susan said in a very disapproving and disparaging tone, without turning to face him, "So. Very. IM-proper."
Alan instantly halted in his tracks. On one hand, he almost felt like laughing at Susan's reference to her notorious tag-line, "so very improper," which evoked the seemingly ancient days when she'd actually resisted his advances. But more seriously, her words hit him like a slap in the face. It was no laughing matter at all. This was no mild or half-hearted protest; this was an angry, scathing rebuke. He almost felt like bursting into tears. On one hand, he would rather chew off his own leg than disappoint her in any way. But on the other hand, he'd been fucking for over two hours, nearly non-stop, and his penis was sore and lifeless. He was so sleepy he was nearly swooning. He didn't know what to do.
He turned back and tentatively asked, "Um, Mommy?" But there was no answer forthcoming.
He'd been about to walk out of the kitchen through the living room rather than through the hallway he'd come in from. That happened to put him near the counter that separated the kitchen from the dining room but on the other side of the kitchen from where Susan was still standing, perched tall and stiffly straight on her high heels with her back to him. He thought that she'd say something to him now for sure. She seemed to be seething with a barely controlled anger from the little he could glimpse of her face. But still, she didn't say a word.
She had been standing at the counter with her feet together, but now she took a step back without turning. In complete silence she slowly spread her ankles apart until they were about two feet from each other. Then, ever so slowly, she bent over, keeping her legs perfectly straight and her upper body completely stiff as she rotated at the hips. She came down until her body was bent at a perfect ninety degree angle and her bountiful breasts were pressed hard against the cold counter top, the pillowy soft flesh spilling out on either side of her torso for lack of anywhere else to go.
Her French maid uniform was cut so that half of her ass cheeks were exposed if she was standing up perfectly still. But as she bent over, all of her firm round globes came into view. As she slowly leaned over onto the countertop, her skirt rode up over her backside and her pussy rotated into view. This revealed that she wasn't wearing any underwear.
When her breasts were finally supporting her upper body, her hands slid around, behind, and then up the backs of her thighs until they reached her buttocks, moving any traces of her skirt aside in the process. Her fingers took a firm hold of the inviting flesh there, and she pulled her ass cheeks apart as wide as they could go, all without uttering a single sound.
Alan felt his mother's silent anger; clearly, she was still seething. But even more than that, she was aroused. He looked at her pussy beneath her spread open ass cheeks: it was soaked and leaking. Furthermore, even from across the room he could see her asshole was glistening with lube, and silently clenching and relaxing before his very eyes. In fact, both of her holes were shaking. Actually, now that he was paying attention, her whole body seemed to be shaking.
In a flash, he realized that despite everything he'd said and his obvious exhaustion, she wasn't deterred in the least. She had full confidence that he was about to give her the fucking of a lifetime, so much so that her whole body was trembling in anticipation and in mute invitation.
He practically staggered at her confidence in his sexual abilities. He felt a stirring in his loins and looked down. To his great surprise, he saw that his penis had gone from a flaccid little thing to fully erect and throbbing for action in a matter of seconds. There was a huge tent in his shorts threatening to tear them right off. In a daze, he silently pulled his shorts down and stepped out of them.
His brain was still trying to play catch up when he found himself moving silently forward, as if sleepwalking on autopilot, towards her. It was almost as if her exposed ass was reeling his penis in like a fish on a hook, pulling the rest of him along behind.
He was still completely baffled by what seemed to be happening to him, until a memory of Susan talking to him the week before floated to the surface of his tired mind: "I want you to violate my boundaries more often! From now on, whenever you want to or need to really 'get my attention,' there's one way that's the best way to do it. Push your penis all the way into my ass and flex it around! Don't tell me you're going to do it or ask for my permission, just bend me over and stretch my asshole around your big, fat, hard, manly cock-meat any time you feel like it. You know my ass is always ready for you now, so there's no need for words whenever you stuff my butt with your humongous prick. This will henceforth be the proper way to 'get my attention' in the future and I will expect you to do it properly at each and every opportunity that presents itself, from now on. Do I make myself clear?"
As he came out of his trip down memory lane, his hazy fog of exhaustion seemed to disperse slightly, to be replaced by a rising tide of lust. He thought, Dang! This just shows that I'll never get tired of fucking my mom, never! She has such a power over me. She's the most sexual creature on the face of the Earth, more than Suzanne, more than anybody! To get tired of her bombshell body would be like getting tired of eating or breathing. My God, am I going to FUCK her! And she clearly wants me in her ass and not her cunt; otherwise she wouldn't be holding her ass cheeks open like that, silently begging me to take that hole.
He looked down and saw his throbbing, rock hard erection hovering just a few inches away from her mouthwateringly luscious backside, aching to penetrate the hole being so selflessly offered. He realized he too was trembling with excitement as he stepped forward towards her hungrily clenching anus.
