Incest stories,mom and son, A desperate mother is caught trying to sell her body online… I held my pussy open in front of the webcam. I felt like a fool once again sitting there at my piece-of-shit computer with my legs spread and my tits hanging out desperately trying to make enough money to pay the mortgage that was five months overdue. I must have been crazy thinking a forty-something-year-old broad like me with saggy tits, stretch marks and a used up twat could compete with the teen sluts offering up their perfect little asses and pert little tits for every pervert with two bucks to whack off to.
Me, bitter? What makes you think that? The sound of a door creaking and slamming shut let me know that the one person watching my preview “show” had left. BeaverMan415 was still there, but I didn’t count him. He was always there. He popped onto my channel a couple days after I first started this pointless effort to make some money, and, since then, every time I was online he was there. I’d never heard a peep out of him, gotten a single message, or (most obnoxiously) earned a single token from him. I’d ask him at least ten times a day if he wanted to go private, but never got a response. Fucking loser.
While I was deciding between waiting to see if anyone else showed up or going to take a dump, the tinkling sound of someone entering my virtual room perked me up.
‘wut u do?’ PussyLvr69 wrote in the message window.
“I do it all, pussy lover,” I said into my headset in as sexy of a voice as I could manage at ten o’clock in the morning. “I have different outfits and toys, anything you want, lover.”
‘fuck ur ass wit dildo while u piss,’ he typed back.
Goddammit. They never just wanted something normal. I’d refused to piss on cam several times already, but I was getting to the point where I couldn’t afford to be precious with what little dignity I had left.
“Oh, yeah, pussy lover, I’ll fuck my horny ass for you–”
“Holy shit, Mom! What the hell?”
A cold jolt of panic shot through me when I heard my son’s voice behind me. I slammed my legs closed and covered my tits.
“Why aren’t you at work?” I screamed.
“Fired.”
“Again! What the fuck?”
“Hey, at least I’m not sitting around jacking it to porn all day like you!” He stomped off toward his room.
“Jesse, you get back here!” I scrambled for something to cover up with. I heard my son’s bedroom door slam at about the same time as the door on the computer slammed. So much for Pussylvr69 and my one decent shot at making a few bucks today.
I wrapped the towel around me that I keep nearby in case I squirt and marched down the hall to Jesse’s bedroom. I barged right in.
“Mom! Get out of my room,” he yelled, slumped on his bed about to light a cigarette.
“If I don’t come up with six-hundred and fifty dollars by next Monday this ain’t gonna be your room any more. Yeah, that’s how close we are to being foreclosed on, sonny boy.”
“Jesus, Mom, go put some damned clothes on.”
I was so spitting mad I didn’t even care if anything was showing.
“And now you go and get your ass fired! The only skill you got is pumping gas, and you can’t even fucking do that right!”
“At least I had a job,” he shot back and lit up.
“What do you think I was doing in there, huh? I was trying to make some money to pay for the goddamned roof over your ungrateful head.”
“Give me a break, Mom, you’re fucking disgusting. I saw what you were doing.”
“And do you know what? Men pay to see me do it. Yeah, perverted fucktards like you, who can’t get a real woman, shell out good money to see what I got.”
“Okay, then, how much have you made at it so far?”
The little shit. “I told you I don’t want you fucking smoking in my house!”
“It’s not going to be your house in another week, so what do you care?” Jesse flicked his ash onto the carpet and took another drag. “How much, Mom?”
“Forty-six bucks so far.”
“Ha,” he laughed at me. “My mom, the high-class internet hooker.”
“Hey, it’s better than being homeless out on the street. At least it’s something. More than what you’re bringing in around here.”
“Quit bitchin’. I’ll get something else.”
“Yeah, right. Just like you were going to go to auto mechanic school? Or how you were going to get your electrician’s license?”
He crushed his cigarette out on the windowsill next to his bed. “And how’s your G.E.D. coming along, Mom?”
“I don’t have time to put up with your bullshit.”
“That’s right, aren’t you supposed to be shoving something up your ass for a nickel just about now?”
“Fuck you!” I hissed, gripping my towel tighter around me as I turned to leave. “And I’m not going to let you talk to me that way. I’m still your fucking mother, you little bastard!”
I slammed his bedroom door, then slammed my bedroom door. I shut down the computer and almost ripped the wires out of the wall. Instead, I collapsed on my bed and cried like a stupid little bitch for the next hour. I heard Jesse leave at some point. Eventually, after I’d cried all I could, I went to the kitchen for a drink.
I didn’t bother to get dressed. What difference did it make? Jesse was right, I wasn’t much better than a whore. And a lousy whore at that. Couldn’t even pay my goddamned bills. I opened the refrigerator to find that the six-pack of Natty Ices I’d bought the night before were gone. That thieving little fucker.
I fetched the half-empty bottle of cheap vodka from the back of the broom closet where I kept it hidden. That boy had been driving me to distraction for the past eighteen years, but I still loved the bastard. He’d always had his daddy’s good looks, but lately I could see it in him more like a man instead of a boy. I thought this daddy and me would be together forever. Those were some wild days back then. Back when I had a body men would fight to get their hands on.
My first swig of vodka went down hard, but it felt good by the time it hit my belly.
I woke up on the sofa some time the next morning. The empty vodka bottle was on the floor and Jesse had apparently thrown one of our tattered old afghans over me. I was still naked underneath. There was peanut butter stuck in my hair. My head was twice too big for my skull and I had to piss like a racehorse. If this wasn’t rock bottom, I was pretty damned close to it.
It was slow going, but I got myself cleaned up and put together. I sat in front of the computer for a long time before getting up the ambition to turn it on. I had on a lacy red bra with holes for my nipples to show through, and a matching pair of crotchless panties that I got from Frederick’s of Hollywood. I logged in, checked my balance ($46.75), and clicked the “Available” button.
It took less than a minute before BeaverMan415 arrived. I flipped the bird at my webcam. I just sat there waiting. A few anonymous users flitted in and out. 10incherTX entered, typed ‘sorry not into necrofilia,” and left. Another bird to the camera. I tried rubbing my nipples and clit a little. That usually could at least get me somewhat in the mood for the day’s degradations. After a few minutes, my pussy was still dry as a bone. I thought this was going to be easy money. Get paid to orgasm? Hell, yes, sign me up! What a fucking joke.
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