I swished his seed around in my mouth, then swallowed it down in two gulps. I opened up to show him and the others that I’d taken it all.
“I am a dirty slut, Cody. Your mommy is a dirty slut for her son’s cum. You love it when mommy eats your creamy cum load, don’t you?”
His confusion took on a darker shade. I couldn’t tell if he wanted to fuck me or slap me.
“Cody…? This’s fucked up,” he mumbled and pointed at me. “You are fucked up.”
I didn’t think he’d said it loud enough to be heard, but I hit mute on my mic just in case. He turned and headed for the door, almost tripping as he tried to kick his pants off from around his ankles. The sexual high I had felt a few moments earlier was replaced by the low-down truth of what I was doing. Jesse and I hadn’t been exactly close over the past few years, but there was a better than good chance that this would ultimately drive us further apart. Maybe in ways that could never be fixed.
The cha-ching noise pulled me out of my head and I got off my knees and back up into my chair. BeaverMan had sent over one hundred tokens instead of the fifty he’d offered. Did he enjoy the blowjob that much, or did he just feel bad for me? Either way I wasn’t going to turn it down. I said my farewells, checked my balance, and shut down for the night. The show raked in just over two-hundred all together. After the site took its cut, and I gave Jesse his share, I made a little less than I could have earned for a shift at a McDonald’s register or straightening up clothes at Walmart – of course, that’s assuming I hadn’t been fired from both those jobs in the past year. I needed a drink.
I got dressed. If I hurried I could probably get some drunk old man to buy me a couple shots with the hope of getting into my pants. I pulled on my denim skirt and didn’t bother with panties. I was so wet that I’d just soak through them before I was halfway to the bar anyway. I didn’t want to admit to myself how horny sucking my son’s cock had gotten me. With any luck a few tequilas would erase some of the guilt…at least for a little while.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I woke up curled on my bedroom floor, a pile of dirty laundry for a pillow. I had no recollection of how I got there. I was naked from the waist down, and my head ached like it was being squeezed between two boulders. From the way my mouth felt like the inside of a lint trap, I had to assume I’d accomplished my mission of getting someone to buy me drinks the night before. I rubbed my eyes until they were slightly less blurry. This was a mistake. It allowed me to see something stuck to my leg.
I peeled off the used condom from the inside of my upper thigh and tossed it aside. I should have been more disgusted, but I was in too much pain for any real emotion one way or the other. The condom brought back the memory of two biker guys. The smell of weed and leather was a potent aphrodisiac to a certain type of woman at last call.
Memories surfaced of being bent over the hood of a car (probably my own) in the parking lot of the bar while the bikers took turns. I could hear echoes of my crazy laugh and my challenges to them to fuck me harder. I winced as I shifted and became aware of one particularly sore area. It would seem that one, or both, of them made use of my back door. I wasn’t above using a dildo up my ass every now and again when I was feeling in the mood, but Jesse’s daddy was the only man I’d ever let fuck me in the butt. Ah, well, I guess I got what I was asking for.