Duncan Fox
Spankin mommy

CHAPTER ONE

Carla moaned softly. The aluminum cigar tube slid up into her cunt, pressing apart the soft folds of slippery pink flesh. Smaller, colder, and harder than a man's cock, it still felt fantastic. It felt wonderful to have her cunt filled again, even with such a crude imitation of the real thing. Lying on her back with her legs spread widely, straining the tendons on the insides of her thighs, Carla slid the tube deep into her oozing hole. It pressed the end of her cunt, stretching her. Then, slowly, tantalizingly, she fucked the tube in and out, in and out.

Her nerve fibers squirmed in response to the stimulation. She writhed sensuously on the big bed. Her head was up on a pillow so she could see her reflection in the mirror at the foot of the bed. She tried to ignore the lewd sight of the cigar tube going in and out of her twat, but couldn't. She couldn't take her eyes off her naked body. At forty, with a teenage son, she was as youthfully firm as she had been at his age. But her tits had a mature thrust no teenager ever have. Her nipples, dark and long and erect, were conical, textured buds that had nursed a baby, fed and nurtured a tiny, sucking mouth.

Carla brushed a lock of jet-black hair off her forehead. She continued to move the aluminum cylinder in and out of her ravenous cunt. The folds of her gash, glowing petals of rosy flesh, framed her cunt mouth. The substitute cock slid smoothly in and out, in and out of her dribbling hole. It had none of the ripples and resistance a real cock had.

God! How fantastic Chuck's cock had been. Just thinking about his big beautiful prick and how it had filled her made her cunt contract. It made her eyes sting, too.

"Damn, damn, damn," Carla moaned. "Why'd you have to go and get killed, damm!" she asked aloud. "Damn it all, Chuck?"

In the face of the echoing, lonely silence that was her only answer, she retreated to her masturbation. Parting her cuntlips carefully with two fingers, she tormented the pearl of her clitoris and writhed in the pallid simulation of fucking.

She found a picture of her son forming in her mind. He looked too much like his dead father. Charlie was tall, broad-shouldered, trim-hipped. His hair was the same lush brown shade, had the same sexy waviness. When he smiled, he looked so much like his father it made Carla's throat knot.

Made her pussy drool, too, which terrified her. Desperately, she ripped her mind away from her son to his father, to memories of how it had been between them.

Frantically, Carla groped for a memory strong enough to blot out the lust she felt for her son. She found it in something that had happened on their honeymoon. It was something she hadn't thought of in years. Now she clutched it – it was one recollection from her marriage that was powerful enough to overwhelm everything else. The incident had occurred because she had teased her husband of three days until his control had snapped completely.

Carla whirled giddily into the motel room, swirling her scarf like a banner. She was giggling. She was intoxicated, but not drunk, high on wine, and excitement, and love. Theatrically, she kicked her feet, sending her glittering sandals flying across the room. Chuck slipped the chain on the door after hanging out the "Do Not Disturb" sign.

Carla was aware of Chuck's angry frown. She was aware of his fury, and it tickled and pleased her. It was perfect proof of his love for her. He was jealous. He was absolutely cock-eyed jealous!

"Well, I hope you're pleased," Chuck said furiously.

"Oh, I am, I am!" Carla giggled, deliberately taunting him.

"You make an absolute fool of yourself tonight."

"Oh?" Her eyes were big with mock innocence.

"Behaving like a drunken fool with an overweight toy salesman from Toledo," Chuck snarled, oblivious of the fact she was teasing him.

"He's a cutie-pie," Carla giggled. "An absolute cutie-pie."

"He's a fat slob," Chuck snapped.

Chuck's jealousy was too rich and enjoyable to let die. His fury gave Carla an incredible feeling of power. Why, she could have him on his knees just with a snap of her fingers!

She discovered his breaking point when she ostentatiously tried to recall the fat salesman's room number, then started out the door to go see him.

With a bellow of fury, Chuck's hand clamped down on her slender waist. She shrieked as he lifted her into the air. She kicked futilely in Chuck's strong grasp, then landed on the king-sized bed with a thunderous Whumpf!

"Teach you to be unfaithful, bitch!" Chuck snarled.

"Chuu-uuck!" Carla yelled as he wrestled her across his lap. She kicked and fought, but he was six foot two and all muscle, while she was five foot two, and not very strong.

In seconds she was ludicrously draped face down over his legs. He held her there, one strong hand gripping her neck. He was ready to grind his fingers painfully into her flesh if she started to get away. Ignoring her kicking and struggling, he slipped her dress up, exposed her to the waist. Hooking his fingers in her panties, he dragged them down, bared her firm, round ass. The panties hobbled her legs, tangled around her slender calves as she fought and kicked.

The first stinging, open-handed smack on one buttcheek cut off her complaining and pleading sharply. The second made her jerk convulsively. "Owwwooo!" she wailed, bucking futilely.

Chuck paused. She hoped that this was all she'd get. Her hopes were crushed when he reached across her and grabbed her hairbrush from the bedside table.

"Nooo, please, Chuck, please!" Carla pleaded.

"Teach you!" Smack! "To try…" Smack! "To run out…" Smack! "On me!"

He punctuated his words with blistering slaps with the back of the hairbrush. For a few seconds, Carla was frozen and silenced by total shock. Then the searing pain in her ass overwhelmed her, and she let out a cry of pain.

"Oww!" she wailed as tears poured down her cheeks.

"And on our honeymoon," Chuck went on implacably. "Goddammit, that's just too much!" He continued to spank her with the flat side of the hairbrush. The ringing slaps echoed back off the walls as he blistered her butt.

Carla had never felt such excruciating pain in her life! She had never been spanked, ever. The polished hardwood hairbrush felt like it was raising welts an the white cheeks of her ass. A blowtorch would probably have hurt less.

Then, astonishingly, there was a perverted kind of pleasure building in Carla's guts. Her crotch was feeling warm and wet and excited, the way it always felt just before Chuck thrust his cock deep into her cunt.

Under her, she felt a swelling hard knot in Chuck's lap, and knew instantly what it was. The feel of his cock burgeoning up against her sent her excitement soaring still higher. Every stinging blow of the makeshift paddle made her pussy throb and pulse hotly, and made the prick thrusting against her stomach push upward more demandingly.

Crying, moaning, sobbing, wailing, Carla kicked and bucked. Suddenly her panties were gone, finally dislodged by her struggles. Her legs sudden freedom caught them both unawares. Her next wild kick threw her off Chuck's lap. She slammed to the floor with a crash, landing bruisingly on her back. With a wail of pain, she dug her heels into the rug and heaved her ass up off the floor, and clutched her scorched butt with both hands. Her skirt was still up around her waist. Her pussy was thrust forward as if she were inviting a fuck.

While she was still nursing her abused backside. Chuck ripped his pants down, exposing his monstrous hard-on. He dropped to his knees between Carla's spread legs, then fell forward and rammed his prick into her gaping slit. She accepted the thrust and felt a blinding rush of ecstasy from his brutal entry into her dripping hole. Her ass smashed down on the rough carpet, and the searing pain made her heave her hips up violently. His cock was driven still deeper into her snatch by the powerful thrust.

It was an insane, churning fuck. When her ass touched the floor, it was as if red hot spurs were applied to her, and she would buck upward. Chuck slammed his prick into her cunt with animal fury, unmindful of either her pain or her pleasure.

It was the greatest fuck Carla had ever experienced. Her clitoris was mangled between their crashing loins. The walls of her cunt were ravaged by the searing friction of the cock pistoning in her. The pain in her ass was the final good that sent her screaming upward to a blistering orgasm. As she spasmed and jerked in the throes of her pleasure, she felt her husband unloading thick gobs of jizz into her convulsing cunt.

Carla dug her heels into the carpet, kept her ass up off the floor. Her back was arching, straining painfully. When her muscles began to quiver, she relaxed. Her ass touched the rug, and instantly she convulsed and heaved up again. Her sudden fucking motion rekindled Chuck's excitement.

He began ramming his cock into her flooded cunt a second time. His cock pumped a thick, creamy wave of cum out of her hole. His crotch slammed down on her clit, and Carla went roaring up toward a second come.

Her strength began to give out. Carla heaved up desperately, trying to protect her ass. Chuck rolled her to her side. They thrashed together in an insane knot. They flailed together in a wild tangle as they screwed with total abandon.

In seconds, Chuck was pouring a second load of jizz into her twitching twat. His entire body trembled with the strain. Carla clung to him, her cunt milking and massaging his spurting prick as she climaxed.

Then they were clinging to each other, sweating and panting, stunned by the violence of their screwing.

Clinging to that searing memory, Carla writhed and twisted on the bed and pistoned the silvery cigar tube in and out of her dripping slit. Her clit squirmed under her determined, rolling thumb. She mangled her mini-cock into a ball of fire. In the mirror she watched her feet scrabbling at the bed her gaping crotch bounced and heaved. The flushed inner folds of her pussy gleamed wetly around the pistoning tube. Her cunt bush was tight and twisty with wetness, her fingers slick with juices.

Then she was coming. The fireball swelled and swelled, burgeoned in her, expanded until it overwhelmed her. It swept before it the last vestiges of her civilized being. Her cunt spasmed and spumed around the still-pistoning aluminum cylinder. Her eyes closed, Carla arched in the grip of her orgasm, moaned, fought to keep her orgasm going as long as she could.

Inevitably, her come had to fade, just as the one after that blazing spanking Chuck had given her so long ago had faded. Now, as then, she was left with a sad hollowness.

When it was over, Chuck had tenderly lifted her to the bed, and apologized, and begged for forgiveness. He promised he would never strike her again. He had kept that promise, and neither of them had even mentioned the incident again. She had never had the courage to tell him how great it had been for her. She had never asked him to do it again, never provoked him again.

Weary and sad, Carla slid the tube out of her wet cunt and lay quietly on the bed for a few minutes, trying to ignore the hollowness in her guts. Then, restlessly, she got up. Defiantly nude, she stood in front of the mirror and surveyed her trim body. Then she turned and walked out of the bedroom, through the empty house. Her bare feet scuffed along the carpeting. Cool air touched her intimately, drying the wetness at her crotch. Her nipples were still stiff.

She wondered why she was walking around like this. She had never been a nudist. She and Chuck had been quite modest, in fact. Charlie had never seen her naked.

Carla paused in her son's doorway and thought about him. Pensively, she gazed at the litter of clothing and athletic gear, the pictures of sports stars, the banners. Hesitantly, she entered his room. She tried to ignore the way her heart was pounding. She was violating his privacy, and she knew it. Something about being in his room, naked, made her pussy tense up. Feeling driven, she walked over to her son's desk.

Idly, she stirred through the clutter, not sure what she was looking for. A picture of a girl caught her eye and she picked it up and studied it thoughtfully. Ann Jones, Charlie's current steady.

There was a teasing lilt to her smile. She was wearing a soft sweater that molded gently to her small, immature boobs. A circle pin – symbol of virginity? – adorned the slope of one titty.

Carla wondered what Charlie and Ann did on their dates. How far had they gone? How much did Charlie know about sex? Carla had no idea what Chuck had told Charlie about sex, if anything.

If Charlie came home at this point, Carla reflected, he'd learn quite a bit. The possibility that he might made her shiver. The chance was small, though. Still, she should get something on.

Instead, tingling, feeling strangely wicked, she went over to his closet and opened it. A jock strap dangled from a hook on the door. She held it for a few moments, studying it. She wrenched her mind away from the organs it cupped, and hung it where it had been. Beside it was a rack with four neckties and a wide leather belt. She fumbled through the clothes hanging on the rod. She wondered again why she was doing this.

But, deep down in her guts, she knew why. She was horny. That was the only word – horny. Sweet, loving, faithful Carla was horny. She was prowling in her son's room, naked, after masturbating, because she was still frantically horny, desperate for sexual satisfaction.

Even from her own son? The thought shocked her to the core, but she couldn't ignore it. Charlie was, after all, eighteen. He was the spitting image of his father. The fact that she was Charlie's mother, had borne him, meant nothing to her, did nothing to quench her aching sexual frustration.

But, God, what would happen if he came home and found her like this? He'd be devastated, alienated. It would rip the two of them apart, would demolish what was left of the family. Charlie was just a kid, psychologically. To find his mother naked in his room, probing into his private belongings would destroy his faith in her, and shatter him emotionally, destroy their relationship.

Carla was just about to turn away from the closet when a brown envelope behind a suitcase on the floor caught her eye. Nervously, wondering if it had fallen there by accident, she took it out.

The foreign postmark, Denmark, puzzled her. It felt as if there was a magazine inside. Her hands shaking, Carla pulled it from the envelope.

Her head swam giddily for a moment as she studied the garish cover. All her questions about Charlie's innocence were answered instantly. What did her son know about sex? Everything. On the cover, in full color, were a man and a woman. Both were naked. The man had a titanic hard-on. The woman was spreading the hairy lips of her pussy, exposing the gleaming, flushed petals of her inner folds.

Her hands shaking, her insides boiling, Carla began to leaf through the porno magazine. Page after page swam before her eyes. Page after page of men and women tangled in intercourse. The pictures were incredibly detailed, showed hard, gleaming cocks plumbing wet, slippery cunts.

The speed at which Carla flipped through the magazine slowed. She began studying the pictures more and more closely. Every sexual position was shown – man on top, woman on top, side by side… There, were even a few gymnastic ones that didn't seem possible. There were two pages of cocksucking and cunt-lapping. She and Chuck had tried oral sex once, unsuccessfully. The sight of a pretty young girl with a monster cock in her mouth made Carla's own mouth water. The picture of a man's tongue probing a girl's cunt bush, spearing the pearl of her clitoris, made Carla's pussy itch.

Carla turned the page and blinked in surprise. The girl was on her knees, leaning over a bed. Between her thighs the dusky lips of her cunt were visible. The girl was reaching back, spreading the cheeks of her ass to reveal the dark pucker of her bung. And the man was aiming the bulbous knob of his prick straight at the bud like tart.

The next picture showed the head of the man's cock nuzzling the tight brownie. In the next, he was penetrating the little asshole, prying the opening wide, so that it was pale and stretched. Then, the shaft of his cock was half swallowed up by the girl's asshole. The final picture, taken from near the floor, looked up between the man's legs, and showed just the base of his cock, all that was outside the girl's ass.

Carla glanced at the expression on the girl's face. She was obviously enjoying the buggering.

Carla's whole body knotted with sexual hunger she studied the gross photograph. Her ass itched, her pussy itched, her insides crawled with lust. Her hands shaking violently, she shoved the magazine back in the envelope and thrust it back into its hiding place. Blindly, slamming the closet door behind her, bouncing off the door frame, she staggered out of Charlie's room.

Once back in her own bedroom, she grabbed the cigar tube, and stared at it. It was insane, but she had to try it, she just had to. Something was driving her on. Her aching, crazy horniness had been increased by the pornographic magazine. Holding the blunt-ended instrument, she studied it as if she were contemplating suicide.

It looked too cold and hard. Biting her lower lip, carrying the deadly tool before her like a religious totem, Carla went into the bathroom. She uncapped the shaft, filled it with blood-warm water, and recapped it. Now the instrument had weight and warmth, and seemed almost alive. Then she found the cold cream, and with two fingers smeared the white paste down from the blunt rounded end of the cigar tube. The warmth of the water softened the cold cream. It formed a sleek, oily, fragrant film on the shining aluminum.

Her entire body tensed like the strings of a harp, Carla went back to the bedroom. Crawling up on the bed, she stretched out on her back. Her feet were toward the mirror again. She spread her legs like a frog's, strained to expose her crotch, and her ass. Then she eased a pillow under her hips. With one pillow under her head, the other under her hips, she was bent in a shallow "U", and could see the crack of her ass with little difficulty.

She spread her asscheeks with her fingers of her left hand. There it was – the dark pucker of her bung! Her hand shook, making the blunt head of the tube waggle wildly as she brought it near the target. She steadied the warm metal with the fingers of her left hand, guided it to the crater of her brownie.

The first delicate touch sent a jolt through Carla, made her whole body jerk. Just that faint, barely perceptible touch felt fantastic. Then she began to press, began to slowly drive the cigar tube into her bung. It wedged the muscle open a little at a time. Every millimeter of dilation increased her pleasure.

Her mouth wide with excitement, Carla slowly buggered herself with the metal cylinder. When her asshole was embracing the shaft of the tool, she drove it up into her bowels. The greasy metal slid smoothly and excitingly up into her butt. Watching in the mirror, she thrust the cigar tube up into her gut.

A soft moan startled her. She froze, then relaxed, realizing it was herself she had heard. She giggled with relief, and felt it clear down in her guts, where the hard shaft was spearing her asshole.

The sensation made her whimper with lust. Her bung spasmed around the brutal invader. She was almost crazy with excitement.

"Oh, God, Chuck, why didn't we ever try this?" she asked her gross reflection. It looked as if the cigar tube was cut off, the way her asshole clenched around it. Her pussy, black-furred, pink-hearted, glared at her in the mirror. She drove one thumb deep into her streaming twat, and felt her already exquisite pleasure increase. She tortured her clit, and writhed madly in the grip of her pleasure.

She slid the tube in and out of her butt, loving the feel of the changing, shifting pressure deep inside her. The smoothness of the tube meant there was almost no friction with the ring of her asshole which she knew somehow was a loss. She pistoned her thumb in her snatch in pallid simulation of a cock.

But it was good. The dual penetration was driving her upwards in an endless series of waves, lifting her to a glittering peak. Closing her eyes, she tried to imagine Chuck was driving his cock into her butt. Her son's features kept intruding, until she was unable to resist his image any longer, and accepted it.

It didn't matter. All that mattered was the pleasure, the growing, swelling tidal wave of pleasure. It would sweep everything else away, the regrets, the loneliness, the fears, the sorrows. She pistoned the tube faster and faster in her asshole. Her thumb stirred the juices in her cunt to a foam. She was approaching the glittering apex. Then she was tumbling down the other side in a welter of pleasure and uncoordinated motions. She was left quivering helplessly in the muscle-wrenching convulsions of her orgasm. Her naked body jerked spastically. She held the cigar tube deep in her ass, her thumb deep in her cunt, and milked her orgasm of every mind-blowing drop of pleasure.

Then, with a soft whimper of relief, she let herself relax, eased her grasp on the cigar tube. Nature took over and she crapped out the hard piston easily.

For a long time Carla lay there, her legs still spread wide. Her body was limp. She felt her juices drying on her pussy. Her asshole was a gentle ache. Finally she dragged herself off the bed, staggered to the bathroom. She washed her hands, emptied and scrubbed the cigar tube. She didn't want to think about what she had just done. She felt too ashamed.

So, instead, she worried about Charlie. Obviously, he knew more than she, did. Which was a shock. She wondered how he had gotten the magazine. Then she remembered that about a month earlier, he had become intensely interested in getting the mail in from the mailbox each day. She had assumed he was waiting for a letter from a girl.

What mattered more than how he had gotten it, though, was what she should do about it. If she said anything, he'd know she had snooped in his room. But, how could she not say something?

She wrestled desperately with the problem. At the same time she was resisting the urge to get the magazine out and look at it some more. Strangely, Chuck's death had not really brought Carla and Charlie closer together. It had given her the urge to protect Charlie, to cling to her remaining family. He, on the other hand, was in the process of fighting for his independence.

Recently, an accommodation of sorts had been reached. Charlie kept her informed of his whereabouts, adhered to the liberal curfew. Carla refrained from prying into his private life, gave him freedom to come and go as he pleased. Outwardly, at least, she trusted him completely.

Reluctantly, she concluded she could say nothing to him. But, unavoidably, she was going to be acutely aware of him as a sexual being. She would have to somehow find out just how far he had actually gone. If he got Ann or some other girl pregnant, it would be a disaster. Obviously, he had to have an outlet for his sexual desires. She would have to help her make sure it was a safe outlet. She wondered how she could manage that. She wondered if Eric Jameson would have any ideas, or if she could mention it in the first place. He had been attentive since Chuck's death. Eric was a widower. Maybe he was having similar problems with his daughter Ellen.

Unfortunately, Carla thought, it would introduce a note of intimacy to her relationship with Eric. And his intentions, politely as he had expressed them, hadn't been exactly honorable in the first place. Her rejection of his proposition hadn't offended him, but she didn't want to rekindle his hopes. That wouldn't be fair to Chuck, after all.

God, though, it would be good to have a man again. It was getting harder and harder to remain faithful to Chuck.

She would discuss Charlie's problem with Eric, she decided. He would know what to do. Then she would have to discourage Eric's advances again. If he ever tried to physically press the issue, he would win. He was huge. Carla shivered. Her pussy became unexpectedly wet. Resolutely, she put on her robe and went out to the living room to see what was on television. She glanced at the clock. Charlie should be home soon.