A mom, son, grandpa tale – Family taboo, Joey was 19 years of age. He did not look his age, appearing more like a 14 or 15-year-old with his youthful face. His skinny, 5′ 6″ frame, lacking muscular tone, gave him a frail demeanor.
But Joey was ambitious! In high school he had gained an apprentice electrician position at a local electrical company. He was 3 years in of a 4 year course. He was energetic and competitive… and he liked girls. He liked girls ALOT!
His good qualities did not help him very much gaining credibility with the mothers and fathers of the neighborhood. They berated him to their daughters when Joey asked them to step out on a date with him.
Few of the girls his age or older in the 1950s neighborhood had little ambition to attend college and were more interested in finding a husband with a good job and settling down, raising a family, following in their parents footsteps.
Joey fit that bill to a T! Still, many of the girls avoided Joey, heeding their parent’s warning that Joey would never amount to much.
There was a bit more to the rhetoric! Joey’s stepfather was a merchant seaman and was gone many months at a time on sea duty. He was considerably older than his wife, Jane, and she was, by the consensus of all of the adults in the neighborhood, the neighborhood whore, though the men of the neighborhood had no chance with her, should they had so desired. Many did but were refused. Maybe that was their reason to degrade. Unfortunately, parents reflect on their sons and daughters.
Unaware of the other parent’s opinion of him or his mother, he was very much aware of his mother’s propensity to frequent the downtown bars that catered to the area’s naval population of sailors. Many a late evening, or, wee hours of morning, his mother would bring home a fellow in sailor attire. From his bedroom, he was very much aware that his mother was giving up her feminine attributes to a stranger. He could only speculate, and often did, if his mother was receiving payment for her lack in judgment and morality.
Now, Joey received poor ratings from the parents, but a few girls, though still leery of his qualities as a husband and father, could give Joey raving reviews due to what hung between his legs. The half-dozen or so girls who had scoffed at their parents warning had had their hands on Joey’s one physical gift, his 7-1/2 inch, thick cock. Of course, it had not been their original intent to seek it out, but Joey had learned early that not to ask was a definite no. Sort of like winning the lottery; if you don’t buy a ticket you’re guaranteed not to win.
Always finding a way to get his date, the girl, in question to a secluded parking spot, alley or even his apartment, he would offer his services first, finger or tongue, to alleviate pent up female hormones. Favors given… favors returned. Nothing ventured… nothing gained. Joey had 100% success rate of participation but we have to admit that many of these gals were “good girls” at heart and were saving themselves for marriage. Having their vagina massaged, feeling the jolt of orgasm, while tugging or stroking a firm ample cock, awed by the eruption, were all they were willing, in good conscience, to commit to.
There were home runs; return of oral favor from two and that one, of the two, rare bird who could not say no to full penetration and intercourse. Joey always carried protection and made sure the lass was well satisfied, with at a minimum of two orgasms.
Needless to say, Joey did not want for female companionship. Many of these girls had steady boyfriends and Joey was getting more from them sexually than their boyfriends were. Word-of-mouth is a wonder advertisement! Still, Joey had desires that were not being fulfilled. There was one female, a full-grown woman, who perplexed him and filled him, of late, with a lustful desire. He’d spent many a night listening to her sexual moans and groans as he stroked his cock and lusted after her.
Jane, Joey’s mother, was 38 years old, 18 years younger than her husband. Blonde, her hair worn in a short, pig-tail much of the time, she was 5′ 10″ tall, approximately 185lbs, robust in every area. People called her a whore. She was not. She had a good job at a local retail outlet in the lady’s department, providing her a good living. She just liked to fuck and preferred her partners, sailors always, to be considerably older than she. She liked to rationalize that fact to her husband to make it easier for him to accept the fact, he knowing, that she fucked around on him when he was out to sea. That she was the prefect wife when he was home, never saying no, being an exceptional piece of ass, kept him pacified. Had he not had his own strange ass in world wide ports?
Jane did not hide her tendency to frequent the local bars, drink conservatively, and bring home a strange sailor 4 or more nights a week. Her excuse to Joey; she didn’t like being by herself at night. The sailors were always introduced to Joey as being an uncle or friend of his stepfather. There were no other excuses offered should Joey see the fellows in less than full attire or naked, though Joey, up until recently, had never saw his mother in anything less than a housecoat.
Four months ago was the beginning of his lust, his incestuous lust, for his mother.
She had brought home a large, unattractive sailor of perhaps 50 years. Most unexpectedly and bizarre, he had spied the man atop his mother on the large sofa at the front of the house as he went to take a leak. Only his mother’s head, partial thighs and knees were visible as they were mostly dressed, but their body motion clearly transmitted that when they were engaged in sexual intercourse. That, and her moans and groans. The sailor mostly grunted.
He was instantly mesmerized by his mother’s aggressive movements. He had watched for only brief minutes before the older guy groaned and came. Still beneath him, his mother was furious and berated the man for not waiting, or caring, for her own orgasm. She ordered him off her and out of the house. As he struggled up, it was clear that he was intoxicated. He had refused to leave without a good-bye kiss, pawing her as she slapped at him.
Joey hurried to his bedroom and returned with his BB gun and started pelting the man with BBs. Angry, threatening bodily harm, the man was no match for the pounding Jane was giving him and the sting of the closely fired BBs. Fumbling with his pants to fasten them, the swabby finally made it out the front door, down the steps and across the narrow street, Joey following him, continuing to shoot him from the front porch, all the way to and around the corner.
Feeling triumphant, saving his mother, Joey returned to the living room, closing the door, receiving a warm hug and kiss on the cheek from his mother with thanks. She requested that he return to bed.
Joey laid in his bed with the adrenaline coursing through him from the shooting… but quickly shunted from the forefront by the memory of his mother having sexual intercourse. His hand slipped under his briefs. Pulled from his briefs, he stroked his cock. He had not peed yet. He shoved his cock back in his briefs and rolled out of bed, opened his door, walked the short distance to the bathroom door, finding the door open, the light on, his mother standing at the sink in front of the medicine cabinet mirror.
He was instantly aware of his mother rubbing her breast, her housecoat partially open. He noted the bottle of moistening cream. He was instantly noticed but casually, acting adult like, leaned against the door jam for long moments until his mother lifted her eyebrows in question. “I have to pee, mom.” He said.
“Go ahead, honey.” She replied, returning her attention to the job at hand.
As Joey eased past his mother, he glanced in the mirror and saw his mother’s left breast, more so than the right, as she rubbed cream onto her left breast, massaging it in with her right hand. Joey tugged at the right side of his briefs with his left hand and brought forth a less than limp cock. He almost forgot to lift the seat! His eyes alternated between the water hitting the toilet and the mirror showing less than he wished of the action there.
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