Son for Hire: Chapter 90 (Patreon)

Like father, like son.  Eugene’s phone call had totally spoiled the playful mood we had going here but it also brought back echoes of that phone call she took from Alan once upon a time while we were enjoying some quality time together.  I recalled how much he’d taken her for granted in that call, just as Eugene had just now.  Unlike that time though this one really stung her.  She missed her son dearly, in a way I could never understand until I had a child of my own.  As he grew up Eugene had been Evelyn’s whole world.  She couldn’t just shut that sort of love off like a light switch.  How could he not understand that?  How could he be so cruel to her?  How could he not at least ask how she was doing?

Evelyn gives me one more squeeze then backs away, her hands holding my shoulders as she looks at me from arm’s length.  Her eyes still glimmered though the tears were contained.  In fact, she had this radiant smile on her face that my heart feel all happy and fuzzy.  She runs her hands over my hair, fussing with it and combing it with her fingers, then runs them down my neck and bare chest.  She holds her right hand over my heart and continues to just…look at me.  Her almighty Mommy energy washes over me like a tidal wave of love.

“We’re done here baby.  I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.”  I say softly.  “Can…can we still do something though?  Something together?  I just want to be with you.”

She nearly sheds a tear again as she pulls me back into her and nuzzles into my neck, kissing me and smelling me.  I lay my cheek on her soft hair and soak up the attention that her real family so foolishly rejected.  Her soft hands run up and down my back, feeling my neck and stroking my hair.  My arms at my sides I stay still in her arms and just let her love on me like she needed to right now.

“Of course we can baby.”  She whispers.  “I would like that very much.”

“Thank you.”

“My boy.”  Cupping my cheeks in her hands she kisses me.  Again she just gazes, taking in my face as if I were beautiful.  Letting out a sigh she lightly strokes my cheek.  “My dear boy.”

I bow my head bashfully, showing loving humility and total submission in that one simple gesture.

“Ahem.”  She clears her throat.  “We must have discipline.  Isn’t that right?”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“We will continue what we started another time.”  She says.  “But you still owe me those cummies regardless.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“I need to send Eugene his money and clean up our mess.”  She pinches my cheek.  “Messy boy.”

I giggle.

“Take the lube and go the washroom to finish up.  I want to see two more messes in there by the time I come back.”

I nod.  “Yes Ma’am.”

She turns me around, kisses my shoulder, then swats my tush.  “Off ya go.”

I nab the lube on the way by and dash back into the washroom.  Without wasting a minute I slick my hand and get to jerking.  She hadn’t told me how long I had and I wanted to show her how good I could listen.  She also didn’t tell me where to make my mess so I just opt for the easiest place, the washroom counter.  One hand gripping the counter and the other gripping my dick I masturbate without holding back.

Nut number three wasn’t too bad.  The memory of the hot wet pussy hovering just beyond my tongue, the memory of how fucking good her pussy tasted, and knowing had that jerk Eugene not called I would be smothering in its soft moist warmth right now was fuel enough despite the recent releases.  It isn’t too long before I am milking my load out onto the smooth counter, unsurprisingly smaller and thinner than the fat loads I’d blown already.

Three down, just one more to go.  Fuuuuuck!  My balls are literally aching and my thrice pleasured penis in full retreat.  I give myself a brief rest and splash my face with water.  Out in the bedroom I can hear Evelyn setting to work on stripping the top blanket to take it down to the laundry.  I knew I didn’t have much time to get this done.

“Whooo.”  I look at myself in the mirror and pep myself.  “You got this.”

Attempt number four involved me using every trick in the playbook.  I fondle my empty balls, I play with my butt, I pinch my nipples, I stroke and yank at my flaccid cock firmly and roughly, and all the while I am fantasizing about…her.  The only woman in the whole world that I wanted.  My soaring sexual spirit dragged my flagging body behind it kicking and screaming.  I thought the caging and denial from yesterday was torture…oh how naive I had been.  I learn that the only thing more agonizing than not getting something you really desired was getting too much of it.  Evelyn was my soft lovin Mommy, no doubt, but there was no mistaking that she was my Domme as well.  God how I loved her.  Despite my sore nuts running on fumes and my cock not even getting fully hard somehow I manage to coax one final orgasm from my valiant little warrior.

“Huunnghhh!”  I groan as much from agony as pleasure as a small sad puddle of runny jizm feebly spurts out onto a new spot on the counter.  “Ohhhh God.”

Just as the last dribbling dregs are milked Evelyn walks in, her reappearance too well timed to be coincidence.  “Ohhh!  Is that number four!?”  She hurries up behind me and presses up tight to my back.  In her left hand is a folded white cloth.  This she brings to my exhausted junk.

“Hah!”  I flinch as I feel the unexpected cold of what must have been water from the refrigerator soaked into the cloth, within its folds were ice cubes.  After the momentary shock…I melt in her arms.  “Ohhhhhhhh!”  The soothing cool on my sore spent bits was heavenly.

“My goodness.  Four times!”  She hugs me close.  “You are amazing Donald.  I am so proud of my powerful virile man.  I am so proud of you.”

“Hahhhhh.”  I half moan and half laugh.

My cock stung, my balls throbbed, my tender ass glowed.  I felt so deeply drained, so utterly empty, and so completely used up.  Not even a miracle would get a rise from me now.  I hadn’t a single ounce of myself left to give and, though I don’t understand why, that hard earned impotence felt so god damned good right now.  Evelyn was still here, gently holding my manhood in her healing cool touch, and she showed no signs of letting go.  Was I her boy toy?  Yes.  Was that all I was?  Not even close.

Eventually she passes me the cool cloth and has me hold it as she cleans the messes in the sink and the counter.  She compliments me on how big and sticky my messes were despite the rather feeble puddles.  Again and again she tells me about how impressed she was at my fortitude at doing my four cummies in such a short space of time, and again and again she tells me how proud she was of me.  And, of course, she tells me that I’m a good boy.  Together we shower, her washing me and me washing her all over again, then she gets dressed and insists on dressing me.  I stand obediently as she pulls up my underwear, puts on my pants and shirt, and even has me sit on the bed so that could kneel and roll my socks onto my feet…though not before wiggling each of my ‘cute’ toes in turn between a finger and thumb.  It was such a pure and simple act, dressing somebody that she loved, but it was one she relished just as much as reaming me with her big strap-on.

When done she stands up and looks down at me.  I smile back up at her full of that special kind of happy like only she could make me.  Stepping in she embraces my head and pulls me into her soft tummy.  I hug her back and savor every second.  Joy filled the room.  Through me all of the pain and unpleasantness of Eugene’s callous call was completely erased from her heart.  She was his Mom but she was MY Mommy.  I was already cuckolding Alan, this I knew, but only now did it fully sink in that I was also cucking Eugene, in a different way and twice as hard.  Like father, like son.

“What are you giggling about.”  She chuckles as she pulls back to look down at me.

“Nothing.”  I smile.  “Just happy is all.”

She pinches my nose.  “Silly boy.”

Chapter 91