Chapter 305 Tiger, You're Such A Wonderful Son!

Alan sighed quietly to himself. Sheesh! Man, Sis watching is sexy as hell, especially with her wearing nothing at all, but it's far too dangerous. Sure, when Mom is all horny she's probably pretty tolerant of that kind of thing. But then her lusty mood crashes and she gets all prudish again. As it is, I'll be lucky if she doesn't take a big step backwards. Sis just doesn't know when to stop!

Indeed, when they were finally all done, Susan was hit with a strong bout of post-orgasmic guilt. She had really let her thoughts run free, completely unedited by her conscience, because she was so far gone into her own pleasure. But now she remembered some of those thoughts, which made her feel lower than dirt.

My lack of willpower is bad enough, but I actually imagined Tiger as my husband?! I must be mad! And did I say "sex slave"? I think I did. "Tit slave," too. I'm a modern, liberated woman; why do I get so excited thinking such awful things?! I mean, just because I'm one of Tiger's personal cocksuckers now, that hardly means I'm his slave!

She looked at the still-open door, which also made her feel bad, particularly since she hadn't interrupted her cocksucking to close it. Even so, a part of her was disappointed that Katherine hadn't taken advantage of the open door to watch. She had a possessive desire to show the "competition" that she was Alan's best and most favored cocksucker, and she wouldn't play second fiddle to anybody. But at the same time, she realized that she probably would have gotten angry at Katherine for spying, resulting in giving her even more punishment.

Needless to say, she had a lot of conflicting feelings once the fun was over, She looked down and realized that her T-shirt was pulled up to her armpits and had been that way for most of her long blowjob. Somehow she found servicing Alan's dick more pleasurable when her boobs were bouncing free. But now her undressed state was embarrassing, so she pulled her shirt back into place.

That didn't change things much, since she realized this was the shirt she'd altered by cutting a large hole over her boobs. In a way, having her boobs burst through the hole was even more humiliating than if she had remained completely topless. She also remembered that she wasn't wearing anything below the shirt, so she yanked the shirt down in an attempt to cover her pussy. But as soon as she let go, the shirt rose right back into place, exposing her pussy once again.

She sighed in frustration and crossed her arms over her huge, bare melons, covering her nipples. She said glumly, "Tiger, you said earlier, 'I hate to say this, but it makes you look totally slutty.' Why do you hate to say it? Maybe we should just face facts and recognize that your mother is a slut - a sinful, despicable, low-life slut. Look how I'm dressed. Look what I'm doing to you, my very own son. Look at your fertile sperm dripping down my face. I feel so ashamed, even though I can't stop. I need help!"

Alan took great offense at that. "No, Mom, you're not a slut. Don't EVER say that. A slut is a woman who sleeps around with just about any guy. Does that describe you at all? No way. In fact, you're not even sleeping with anybody right now. You may feel slutty, but that's just 'cos you're helping me out in lots of sexy ways and being such a great, caring mom. I love you, Mom! I love you. Don't you understand?"

She sniffled, "I love you too, and I do love helping you do your thing sometimes, but right now, I feel... slutty. Dirty. Sinful!" She pulled her T-shirt down in another largely futile effort to cover her soaked pussy.

"Mom, you're not dirty or sinful. Aunt Suzy's told me of your talks about 'The Sin of Onan', so you're actually providing a way for me to avoid sin every time you help me. Right?"

She nodded meekly.

"So this is something you should be proud of. This is the kind of thing a loving, caring Christian mom does when she has a son in need. Now, as for slutty, you might LOOK slutty, but that's a good thing because you're trying to provide visual stimulation. There's good slutty and bad slutty. I said it made you look slutty, but in a good way. Do you remember that?"

"Yes. But what's the difference?"

"I just described 'bad slutty' - someone who will sleep with anybody. 'Good slutty' is a woman who fully embraces her sexuality and enjoys sex to the fullest, but most definitely does not sleep with just anybody. Like Aunt Suzy, for instance. Slutty means someone who is indiscriminate. But that's not you, is it? You've pretty much pledged to be only with me, right?"

She nodded. She felt a little tingle of excitement thinking about her dedication to him.

"So how can that make you a slut? It's impossible. I want you to take back all those things you just said about yourself! I'm proud of you and I feel honored that you help me like you do."

His words did improve her spirits some. But she still frowned, since she remained unconvinced that she wasn't somehow wicked and evil for enjoying what she was doing. Still, she moved her arms and uncovered her tits as a token effort to try to be "good slutty."

He continued, "It's okay if you enjoy sexual things. It makes me really happy that you do. So no more talk of the word 'slut,' unless you're using it in a "good slut" way. Keep your dignity. You're smart, you're beautiful, you're kind, good, caring, and all kinds of other great stuff. I love you and I don't want you to feel bad about yourself. Ever! That's an order!"

She couldn't help but grin at that. "Yes, sir," she joked.

"And remember what we were saying last night about physical interaction just being another expression of love? There's nothing to be ashamed about at all."

The continued compliments and encouragements finally got through her self-criticism and lifted her spirits. "Tiger, you're such a wonderful son! You're too good for me!" She gave him a big hug. Since she was still wearing the open T-shirt, her tits pressed up against him so firmly that he was inspired to pull back and cup them in his hands.

He apologized, "Sorry, Mom. I don't know about the rules on this, but I can't help myself." His hands pinched and pulled at her nipples.

Her nipples were terribly sensitive, causing her whole body to shiver and tremble in delight. She was happy to suppress her worries and just live in the moment of feeling her son fondle her. She knew in the back of her mind that she'd feel guilty for all of this later, but at the moment she didn't care.

She belatedly muttered, "I suppose it's okay if you play with them a little. But just this time." That was a dramatic understatement, to say the least, as her whole body was humming with erotic pleasure, thanks to his fingering and fondling.

He told her as he groped, "Now that Ron is gone, we're going to have fun. A lot of fun. So thrust your chest out and proudly poke your big tits high in the air, because you have nothing to be ashamed of."

She felt a thrill run down her spine. She repeated those words in her head. "Thrust your chest out and proudly poke your big tits high in the air, because you have nothing to be ashamed of." YES! That should be my attitude!

He continued, "You're just doing what the doctor says is needed to help me, so don't get down on yourself. You're sexy and loving and caring and good slutty, not bad slutty. Okay?"

"Okay. I'm sorry." She smiled at him gratefully, even though she still felt somewhat ashamed and "bad slutty." If only he knew my thoughts, he'd think twice about not calling me a bad slut. What about the ache deep in my loins that's demanding I get fucked? It's driving me crazy! What am I going to do about that? I don't even allow myself to think about those feelings most of the time, but they're there. At the very least, he should be playing with my pussy too! It really, really needs some tender loving care. But there's no way to avoid the fact that intercourse with my own son would follow, and that would be an enormous sin. If I ever let that happen I'd go to Hell for sure! If only, if only...!

"I love you, Mom," he said as he kissed her on the nose and gave her nipples a final tweak. "See you tomorrow."

"I love you too, Son," she replied, nearly tearful with both happiness and frustration. "But what's this 'See you tomorrow' stuff? Don't you want your goodnight kiss and tuck-in?"

"Of course! I thought this was kind of it, because it's so late already."

"Well, it almost is. Here's the actual kiss." She leaned forward and gave him a very chaste kiss on the cheek. Then she straightened his sheets and pulled away.

"That's it?" he asked incredulously.

Her tone was pouty and a bit playful. "That's all you get. It's your punishment for treating me so mean today. I thought you would be more excited to be with me once Ron left, but noooOOOoooo. You go running to Angel. And then it seems like you don't even want my help, and then you make me wear this shameful shirt!" She cupped the undersides of her huge orbs, thrusting them up and out even more for him to enjoy. In the process, she raised the shirt a bit, showing off that it was the only clothing she was wearing (not counting her glasses or high heels).

He laughed. "Fair enough. I was kind of playing around with you by asking you to wear the T-shirt and everything. But it was so much fun to confound your expectations. I promise not to do it again. Well, let's phrase it this way: I reserve the right to decide what you wear or don't wear at any given time, but I'll try my best not to abuse that power too much."

"Thank you," she said, with genuine gratitude. Somehow she'd come to take that authority of his as a given, even though it was far from clear how that presumption got started.

He slipped a hand down to her bare ass and gently caressed her there. "And as for Sis, I didn't go running to her. She and Amy just kind of grabbed my attention, and they pulled me away before I could do anything. Really, like I said before, I was longing to be with you as soon as we got home."

She kissed him again, this time with a dry kiss on the lips. "That's all right. But just remember that I'm going to tease you too sometimes. And the shirt is fun. If you wanna make me wear it again, I kinda might almost like it." She winked saucily. She lifted her great globes up and let them bounce back into place. Then she mock-pouted, "But you can be so frustrating!"

She got a little bit of playful revenge by leaving him without any more kissing. As she walked out into the hallway, still wearing just the cut-up shirt and carrying her discarded shorts, she left the overwhelming smell of cum that filled his room. It was as if her head cleared instantly, but at the same time she was filled with the desire to hurry back into his room just so she could inhale the odor some more.

In her bathroom, she cleaned her face of his cum, but her cleaning method mostly involved wiping it into her mouth. She felt bad about it, but she also wished there'd been more to clean.

Later, as she lay in the darkness in her bed, a new wave of guilt washed over her. Now that her desire for another cocksucking had been temporarily satisfied, she worried about how much she'd enjoyed it. I'm so bad! Yes, I suck my son's cock now. With Ron gone, I'm sure I'll be doing it a LOT from now on. And I suppose he's right that it's not sinful, due to his medical need, and I'm probably even saving him from sin. But my big worry is that I'm loving it far too much! I mean, all this talk about being his "tit slave!" Even if it's just in my mind that's actually worse, because no one is making me say something like that except me. I don't want to wind up in the embarrassing position of begging my son every day to suck his dick!

Darn it, I can picture myself on my knees, topless I'm sure, abjectly begging him just for a little suck! No doubt I'd be holding my tits up and thrusting them out in a desperate attempt to get his attention, but he'd be sitting on the sofa with Angel and Suzanne already on their knees taking turns bobbing for joy, so why would he want me? He'd pat my head and tell me I have to wait my turn.

God. Good God. Why the hell does that make me SO HOT?! That's not right!

Worse, she had a growing desire to get fucked by her own son. She was worried that once she got started helping him to reach his target on a daily basis, before long she'd break down altogether and even beg him to fuck her. One reason why she didn't give him a deep kiss was because she was worried that the next thing she knew she'd be pulling herself down to the bed, and before long they'd be rutting like wild animals. But not only was she morally and religiously repulsed by the incest idea, she also feared that, if that happened, he would lose all respect for her and she'd lose all respect for herself as well.

She thought, He's such a great son. I have to do better by him. I have to have more self-control so I can please him and his constantly demanding member and at the same time not give in to my desires, not break the rules. Help him out, but no incest. That's the most important rule. What we did today wasn't incest - it was just some harmless little blowjob and handjob fun here and there. He needs to get rid of all that sperm! There's no harm in that; that's good and medically beneficial for him.

I don't know if I can handle not going further, though. I don't seem to be strong enough. I don't have the willpower to say "No" to him. Suddenly, sex has taken over my thoughts, and all I want to say is: "Yes, yes, yes!" I'll just have to take it day by day. In the meantime, at least I can dream and masturbate about what would happen if I said yes to EVERYthing. If I let him go all the way! If I let him fuck my cunt! Yes!

She proceeded to do exactly that in the comfort of her bed. She was still too shy to buy a dildo at a store, but her fingers did the job very well.