When his three-minute orgasm finally concluded, the teen fell back on the bed beside his mother, his withdrawal leading to a large amount of his and her cum to spurt out and pool onto the bed.
The tumult in her mind long forgotten, Helen reached out to hold her son’s hand as they both tried to catch their breath.
Before long, Jason was again atop her, folding her legs into his shoulders in his favorite attack position. His still rock-solid erection hungrily waiting right outside her love muscle, the boy looked his mother directly in the eye, and spoke from the heart.
“I’m sorry if I hurt you, but I need you badly, mom. I love you so much and I need you, and nobody else can have you. Not even dad. I need to know that you’re mine.”
“I- I’m yours. I love you too baby — you’re my man. God I can’t believe how horny I still am.”
“Good, cause I’m nowhere close to being done. I’m going to fuck you long as possible and fill you up.”
Just before his glans dove towards one of the spots within Helen Cleaver that’d have her screaming in a few minutes, the boy declared, “I’ll make sure there isn’t even any room for him.”
———————————————————————
On Monday morning, Paul noticed that his wife’s loving morning ritual had an undercurrent of impatient irritation. Sure, she had made him breakfast and was now walking with him to his car, but there was something automatic, something perfunctory about her behavior that made him feel like he was not wanted in the house.
When she planted her traditional kiss after the engine started up, he couldn’t help but voice his concerns, “Babe, are you ok? I don’t have to go to work today if something’s up…”
“No!” Helen snapped. Softening her words, she added, “I- I’m great honey… just don’t be late to work on my account.”
“Ok… if you’re sure.”
“Yeah, bye-bye, now!”
His “I love you” getting no response from his wife, who bolted back to the house, Paul forlornly began the long drive to work. He tried to dismiss the sick feeling in his stomach, assuring himself that he was just being oversensitive and that his longtime wife was madly in love with him. When the inevitable notion of a possible affair entered his mind, he brushed it off, convincing himself that his loving, loyal son would have told him anything unusual about his mother’s behavior.
He only partially succeeded. It would have been easier had his wife not been acting so strangely the past week or so. Whenever he got home, she had seemed tired, disinterested, and often stared off into space, as if daydreaming about something wonderful. His attempts at lovemaking, increased in frequency since their fight the previous weekend, were all rebuffed with various weak excuses; in the 20 years of their marriage, he couldn’t remember a single time Helen had said no. This observation had been extra puzzling given that his wife dressed more provocatively than ever before.
Her strange behavior had alerted him to other oddities around the house — for some reason, their bedroom seemed to have been turned over every single day and the smell of some strange, musky air freshener pervaded every single room in the house. The family seemed to eat take out or delivery nearly every night and the fridge was empty; in fact, outside of a series of unusually bland breakfasts, Helen seemed to have stopped cooking altogether.