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The Sleepwalker

123

We have all heard the disclaimer at the end of commercials for sleeping aids "...sleep-related behaviors like sleep-walking, sleep-driving (driving while not fully awake, with no memory of the event) and other abnormal behavior may occur. " Maybe Josh should have paid more attention to the warnings. Then again, maybe not!

The burr of his phone finally pulled Josh out of a drugged sleep. He fumbled for his cell phone and succeeded in knocking to the floor. He leaned down, cursing and finally grabbed it.

It had been less than an hour since he had come home after drinking with friends. He found he was wired and unable to get to sleep. He had violated his doctor's and the warning of the FDA. He had taken a sleeping pill. The combination of the alcohol and the drug in the sleeping pill had him in a trance like state.

He sat up, turned, and placed both feet firmly on the floor. Glassy eyed, he answered the phone.

"Who the fuck is this?"

"Josh, Josh baby it's me!"

Though heavily garbled, the voice was vaguely familiar. Through the fog of the drug-induced stupor, he thought he recognized his mom's voice.

"Mom, is this you?"

"Come get me, Sweetie!" She pleaded drunkenly.

"Mom, aren't you out with your girlfriends at your bachelor party?"

"They left me, Josh!"

"Where are you mom?"

Josh was in a fog himself. The sleeping pill had him in a semidetached state. He felt like an observer. He was not there. He was dreaming. Tomorrow he would have only fragmented memory of what transpired tonight.

Stolidly he listened as Carol gave him directions. He rose, slipped into his flip-flops, and strode to the front door clad only in his boxers. He picked up his keys from the small table by the door, opened it, and walked out into the humid summer night. He walked across the lot to his GMC Acadia. Josh entered his SUV, started it, and steered into traffic.

Carol was pissy drunk. She sat on the steps of her girlfriend, Sue's, house. Her 5" heels lay in a heap next to her. Her shirtwaist dress was open to her navel, displaying her ample bosom restrained only by a shelf bra. She sat with her legs spread, her matching pink boy shorts on display.

To say that she had been over served at her bachelorette party would understate the prodigious amounts of alcohol she had consumed. Moreover, that would not count the marijuana-laced cookies. She was barely coherent, drifting in and out of consciousness as she awaited her son.

Carol had a substance abuse problem. Her girlfriends knew it; they had planned to drive her home. That plan fell apart when Sue's husband came home unexpectedly and found her on her knees sucking the male stripper's cock.

It had been ugly scene. He had summarily kicked everyone out. In the mad scramble to escape his wrath, Carol they left to her own devices.

Carol smiled the lopsided grin of all drunks. It served Sue right, she thought. She had pulled Carol off that young hunk's cock so she could suck it. Carol smacked her lips as she thought of the delicious feel of that rigid man meat in her mouth. He had been so close to coming!

Carol was not exactly a slut. If she were a man, other men would be envious of her many and varied partners. Nevertheless, as a mature single woman who drank heavily, she was an easy mark for a kind word or a free drink. Josh and his mom had fought about her life style enough that for a period they were estranged. They estrangement had ended when Carol asked Josh to attend her wedding.

Carol had recently found the love of her life...again! However, this one wanted to marry her. She had called her son some weeks ago with the news. Josh's response had been polite but restrained. In her sober moments Carol felt that defined the relationship between her and her son...Polite but restrained.

Josh pulled to the curb in front of Carol. He stared glassy eyed at the wanton tableaux his mother presented. If he were awake, he would be outraged at her slutty behavior. He would recall with irritation the many times he had seen her like this. He would flash back to the seemingly endless stream of "uncles" Carol brought home.

He would then color with lust and embarrassment at the number times he had jacked off listening to his mom's drunken passion through the common wall of their bedrooms. The screams, moans, and slurping sounds would haunt his entry into puberty and thereafter.

Shortly after his eighteenth birthday, he recalled standing naked in the door to her bedroom. His cock stood rigidly hard, slapping gently against his belly. His naked mom lay passed out. The latest in her long line of lovers had just left. Her bristly pubic thatch was wet and matted. Her labia were moist, swollen, and open. The white sticky goo of semen shone wetly on her softly heaving tits and face. He would remember thinking: everyone else does it, why not me.

He had walked to the edge of her rumpled bed. He was at once repulsed and aroused by his mother's wanton appearance. Pre-cum dribbled the length of his sizeable tool. It oozed over his fist clenched tightly around his pulsating member.

He slowly stroked as he thought of the slut his mom had become. He hated her, he loved her, and more than life itself, he wanted to insert his cock into the well-used hole that was his birth canal. He walked slowly to her bed. The odor of sweat, sex, and gin assaulted him. There was the faint pungent odor of cannabis in the mix.

He placed one knee on the bed. He reached down and pinched her come coated grape sized nipple. Carol swatted at his hand and mumbled something. He straddled her. He felt the scratchy wetness of her bush against his balls.

Why not, he thought. The heaving of her ample bosom entranced him. Everybody else does. It was obvious that she did not care who fucked her. Why not him?

Her bedroom reeked of sweat and the intense scent of sex. His head throbbed as the aromas invaded his nostrils; his cock ached and pulsed with the need to slide into her inner recesses.

He noted with lewd intensity the come drying on her face and tits. He leaned forward and slid the head of his tool over her mouth, smearing pre cum on them. Despite her stupor, Carol licked the head of her son's cock.

A shiver shot through Josh as he watched his mom lick the head of his tool. He stroked harder, striving to add his contribution to this slattern spectacle. Like a dog marking a bitch as his, Josh wanted to add his marker of come.

Everyone else does it, he thought, why not me?

He watched with lurid fascination as the first stream hit her forehead and trailed down over her nose and mouth. The second hit her in the chin and dribbled down her neck and cleavage. The last hard spurt hit her belly and filled her navel.

Even then, still hard, he might have fucked her. He slid down, positioning his man meat for its assault on social mores and his mom's pussy. He rubbed the head of his leaking member against her swollen labia, just a thrust, one hard thrust, he thought.

However, still in her drunken stupor, Carol had raised one hand to her face, wiped her son's come from her forehead and nose, and then said:

"Whoever the fuck you are, stick it in or get the fuck out!"

The wantonness of her exhortation snapped Josh out of his reverie. He looked at the fortyish woman under him. He knew then she was sick. He knew that her sickness was as contagious as any plague. Her perversity infected him. He looked at the head of his cock resting between the lips of her sluttish hole. One thrust and he would be no better than his mom would.

Josh had run from the room, hot tears scalding his cheeks.

That morning he had packed up and left. His sudden departure devastated Carol. He never told her or anyone else about his near journey in to depravity. He never returned. Reluctantly, Carol accepted his decision. She had let him use his trust fund to maintain an apartment and finance his training as an architect. He never shared his voyeuring of her. Nor did he tell her how close he came to taking advantage of her drunken condition.

He tapped the horn. He watched with detachment as Carol stood, tried to bend over to pick up her shoes, over balanced, and fell to her hands and knees. Her dress rose around her waist. Unaware of the spectacle she presented, she fumbled for her shoes. He felt his cock harden as he observed her hot pink boy shorts.

Josh stepped from his SUV and walked the few steps to his inebriated mother. Glassy eyed he watched her crawl around on all fours. He watched as she rose awkwardly to one hand and a knee. Again unable to keep her balance, she rolled to a sitting position with her legs spread. Her arms trapped by her dress falling around her arms exposing her matching shelf bra.

Carol felt strong arms envelop her waist. He pulled her to her feet. As her head drunkenly lolled about, she saw tried to focus on the face of this guy. What he is wearing, she thought. She felt herself dropped unceremoniously into the front seat of a car. She sat with her feet dangling out the door. Josh stood in front of her, his semi hard cock straining against his boxers.

Josh casually freed his cock from his boxers. He placed one hand behind Carol's head and forced his dick into her mouth. He thrust in hard, gagging her

With experience borne of much practice, Carol opened her mouth and inhaled her son's meat. She struggled to get it deep in her eager mouth. Dim memories of the young hung stripper struggled into her consciousness.

Then a spark of comprehension glowed briefly in her impaired brain. This was not the stripper. She looked up and tried to focus. She was sucking some strange man's cock on a public street! The blare of a car horn caused her to snap her head back. Josh's sex fell from her mouth, gleaming wetly with her saliva.

Josh walked around and got in the driver's seat. He pulled the Acadia into traffic and headed for his mom's house. Next to him, Carol struggled to figure out what had happened. Who was this guy? She passed out trying to reconcile that thought.

Carol woke to fingers in her pussy. She could feel them deep in her vigorously frigging her sloppy wet snatch. As she struggled to consciousness, her body was on automatic pilot, thrusting up against those invading fingers. As her orgasm overtook her, sending her to those familiar heights, as she felt her juices spew from her vagina and across the anonymous fingers, she glanced over and looked in to the vacant, glassy stare of her son.

The cold air of the Acadia's air conditioner blowing across her bare nipples wakened her. Her hands made an uncoordinated effort to pull her dress together. She touched her bare breasts.

She realized her breasts were exposed. There was soreness to her nipples. Someone had been pulling and pinching them. Bastard, she thought. Like a rag doll, she slumped against the coolness of the SUV window and drifted into a semi conscious state.

Josh's SUV lurching to a stop in her driveway snapped her back to consciousness. She was dimly aware that her dress was totally unbuttoned. Her sticky wet panties clung to her full ass. Whoever this bastard was, he was certainly taking liberties, Carol thought with drunken indignation.

The sultry air of the summer night was like a warm wet towel over her face. She felt woozy and about to pass out again. She felt the vehicle door open. Blearily she made out the figure of a shirtless man. He pushed her to her knees. Then she felt a cock press against her lips. She could barely get this huge piece of man meat in her mouth. She tried to focus but was unable to because the guy was holding her head and fucking her mouth. Somewhere in her pickled brain, she wondered what if the neighbors saw her on her knees in her driveway.

His massive cock stretched her mouth to its limits. The effort caused her eyes to tear up. Then he exploded in her mouth.

Carol gagged, unable to swallow the copious amounts of sperm flooding her throat. It was hitting the back of her throat forcing her to cough. She sprayed Josh's abdomen with come and saliva. Come and saliva dribbled from her mouth, down her chin and on to her bare chest. She fell back in the seat and passed out.

She was dimly aware of passing from the sultry night air to the air-conditioned air of...! Where was she? She pushed the person's arm from around her waist and stood weaving in the foyer. She realized she was home. She turned to the partially clad man. Her son's face swam into focus. Where was the stripper?

"Josh, what fuck are you doing here?"

Josh spun her around and in one swift move pulled her dress off. Then, over her protest, he knelt behind her and slid her soaked panties down over ass. He let them drop in a moist silken pool at her ankles. He kissed each cheek of her butt. Then he trailed his tongue between those full cheeks.

Carol became even more aroused. This stranger, this new lover who looked so much like her son, was awakening a reservoir of sensuality whose depths she had not plumbed in years. She was startled when he nipped aggressively on her ass

He rose slowly, letting his tongue follow her spine, and then planted kisses on the nape of her neck. Then he violently whacked her plump ass with is open hand.

"Whose bitch are you?" Josh murmured breathing in her ear.

Carol almost had an orgasm. A phrase from long ago drifted into her sodden brain...pleasure and pain!

Josh stared at his nude mom. His cock stood out rigidly. He bent at the waist and flipped her over his shoulder. Dimly, in his fevered brain, a phrase drifted like smoke to the surface: why not me?

Carol felt herself carried upstairs; then tossed unceremoniously on her bed. She had confused images swimming through her mind; her son's face replaced the male stripper's face. What was Josh doing?

No, that was not right! She remembered calling Josh.

When Carol came to again she was on her belly in her bed! A cock of incredible size was pounding her pussy. Her first husband, Josh's father used to fuck her likes this; he would pound her into the mattress until she screamed from the pain and the pleasure.

He would scream at her to say it.

He would force her face into the mattress. She knew what she had to say. She would try and he would not let her. Finally, she would force out the word as he exploded in her and her orgasm caused her to begin losing consciousness

Josh had a firm grip on her flame red tresses. He viciously pulled her head back until Carol felt the pain in every strand of her hair. His open palm traced an arc in the air as it rose and fell, repeatedly smacking her ass.

"You tramp! Move your fat ass! Why not me, Gawddammit, why not me!

She was responding to this incredible fucking as she did to his father. She rested on her arms with her ass high in the air. Carol could hear his grunts and groans of passion. Her ass stung from his repeated smacking of her ass. Her pussy was on fire. Waves of pain and pleasure shot through her body. She said it. She screamed it out.

"Pain, you good fucking motherfucker, pain, and pleasure. There is no difference! Make it hurt! Make me feel it!"

Josh grabbed her hips. Repeatedly, He forcibly pulled her back into him while ramming his full length to the ends of her tortured pussy, slamming against her cervix.

"Do you feel it, bitch? Do you feel the pain?"

Her bedroom reverberated with his vicious slapping of her ass. Her cervix was thumped repeatedly. He stretched her pussy to its limits. The wet squishy sound she made filled the air. He was fucking her so hard that it was almost as if he was mad at her; as if her were punishing her. She was having one continuous orgasm. At 50, she was having the fuck of her life.

Then almost impossibly, she felt his man meat swelling in her. Even in her drunken state, Carol knew he was about to come and from the feel of it, her pussy was going to be flooded with sperm. She wanted it. She always wanted it! She always wanted to feel the hot stream of man juices splash into her pussy, filling her up! She wanted to feel his swimmers invading her womb.

Suddenly he pulled out. She wanted to scream in protest. Then he flipped on her back. Just before his seed hit her face, covering it in a white mask of sticky goo, she looked into glassy eyed sweating face of her son! Not her first husband, not the male stripper, but her son had given her the fuck of her life.

Carol passed out for the last time that night. The alcohol and the exertion of this unimaginable good fucking sapped the last of her strength.

Josh stood. His cock hung limply out of his shorts. The gleaming residue of he and Carol's juices gleamed obscenely on his dangling meat. He turned and walked out of the bedroom, down the steps, out the door to his truck. He got in and drove home. He parked the Acadia in his assigned spot. Clad only in his boxers, which were soaked in his and his mom's juices, he strode across the parking lot. He entered his apartment and flopped in his bed.

He woke that morning in his own apartment, in his own bed. He was exhausted. It was as if he had never been sleep! He swung his legs out of the bed, his feet slapped loudly on the cold hard wood floor.

He smelled of sweat and sex. His boxers were stiff and dried hard at the opening. Confused, Josh padded quickly to the bathroom. As he pulled out his cock to pee, he saw it crusted with dried sex juices covered it and his pubic hairs. He had no memory of having sex.

The burr if his phone broke into his reverie. It was his mother.

"Hello mom."

After much soul searching, Carol had decided to call her son. Even with partial memory lost from alcohol-induced amnesia, she was sure she fucked her son last night.

"Baby, are you ok?"

"Certainly I'm ok! Why do you ask?"

"Well...after last night, I thought we should talk!"

Josh was exasperated. He disapproved strongly with his mom's life style. The last thing he wanted was a recap of her debauchery.

"Look, mom, whatever happened last night, I don't want to hear about it."

"But Josh last night was really strange! I think we need to...!"

"Look, mom, I don't want to hear about the kinky things you and your friends do! I have agreed to attend your wedding and host the barbeque afterwards. I'll meet you at city hall at 11:00 am!"

Josh slammed the phone down. Why the hell, he thought, would she want me to listen to her tales about her peccadilloes?

Carol was confused. Had she dreamed that Josh fucked her? She knew she had blackouts before but she was almost certain of this. She shook her head to clear it. Maybe it was time to think about a life style change. Having alcohol induced erotic fantasies about your son was just sick.

Carol rose and walked naked to the bathroom. Her ass was tender. Her nipples ached. Someone had bitten them...hard! Her pussy was unbelievably sore! She stop and gingerly eased a finger in her swollen labia. She brought the finger to her nose and sniffed. Then she licked it. Well, she thought, somebody had fucked her!

***

There was a small group there for the civil ceremony. Carol's friend, Sue, was her matron of honor. The bridegroom had a buddy with him. They both looked trashed from early morning drinking. Jon, the groom, had the florid face of the heavy drinker.

Carol was resplendent in a pale pink, off the shoulder peasant dress. It emphasized the deep cleft of her cleavage. The hint of a nipple through the dress suggested that she had found a shelf bra able to hold her ample bosom. The dress ended about 2 inches above the knee, perhaps a touch too short for a woman of her age. Her patterned stockings had a heavy dark seam down the back.

She glanced back at Josh and smiled brightly. He returned it quietly. She was now sure Josh had fucked her last night. There were huge blank spots but she was certain now. Moreover, the ache in her pussy told her she needed more.

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