Naomi's lengthy lashes flickered in the dim light of the morning as she opened her eyes. She was face down on a small bed, wearing her black bra and thong. Stretched out under the ruffled bedcover, her large breasts swelled out slightly to the sides of her torso and her ass swelled in an inviting bubble beneath the bedspread before curving back down, leading on to thighs, calves, shapely feet with arches like Venice bridges. She had been too exhausted by the events of the previous day even to pull the comforter back and snuggle in, but there was only one present beside her sprawling form. A gorgeous nine-year-old boy named Aiden.
The room was an unfamiliar one. A young boy's room, with a young boy's bed (currently holding two), the navy-blue comforter decorated with Martian invaders and noble space adventurers. As Naomi's vision adjusted to the low illumination of dawn, she made out more details. Movie posters. A laptop computer on a desk. Action figures and comic books strewn on chairs and on the floor. Balled-up socks fought for space on the floor with school assignments and empty soda cans. She sighed contentedly to herself, the swooning hiss of a sinfully fulfilled woman. She turned to her side and moved over on the small bed, sliding a slender arm to her right...and felt warm flesh. Smooth, young, and searing. Her hand spiderwebbed into five spread fingers and rubbed over a chest and stomach she knew were taut and golden.
She moved her hand south and felt a bulbous swell, sealed beneath a soaked waistband. "Mmm...Aiden..." she hissed into her pillow, longingly. She thumbed the fat, apple-sized cockhead through the boy's tight underwear and moved her mouth to his boyish chest, sucking one nipple into her mouth. She licked it, rimmed it, circled it with her talented adult tongue. In the moment, she became a 31-year-old geisha, lowering herself to service a child.
Aiden didn't move, didn't acknowledge her presence. His eyes were closed, peaceful and long-lashed. His golden hair cascaded around his flawless neck and framed his face. Perfect lips and nose. None of the wide-eyed physical immaturity of other children his age, no sign of a child's awkward pout, but the serenity of an angel. A deity who'd made an earthly female doctor his own. Her hand slid further beneath the waistband of the boy's tight, sickeningly loaded briefs and encountered a coil of slick, sizzling flesh.
"Fuck, I love your horse dick, you little motherfucker," she hissed into his ear, then nibbled his earlobe. Her hand scrabbled for whatever it could rub and touch. A huge, flaccid shaft, heavy balls, and silken-skinned inner-thighs. She extended her tongue lewdly and slid it down the side of the boy's cheek. Finally, he turned to her and his eyes opened as their faces came together. Piercing blue, seeming to glow in the dawn. She sucked his lower lip, pulling it away from his flawless lower teeth. Aiden made no movement, and at last Naomi stopped sucking and drew in a breath. Her breasts bulged obscenly against his flat chest.
"Time for school," she said. "I'll help you."
"Like mom said?" he replied, and Naomi's heart fluttered at the competence in the voice.
"Yes. Like your mom said." She drew herself up on one elbow.
"Fifteen minutes, Aiden. I'll come to get you in 15 minutes."
Naomi spent the fifteen minutes in the bathroom, adjusting herself. Her puffy pussy was soaked, juices running down her thighs, but that was fine- that was just an offering of herself to him, proof of her devotion. For this boy, she needed to fix her hair, her lipstick, her mascara. For Aiden, she wanted her underarms smooth and her pussy properly shaved. She checked, judging that those two areas were, at least, in order, and then moved on. She snapped fuck-crimped hair into an enticing, athletic ponytail and teased out her lashes, agonizing over each action.
For a boy, she thought to herself. For a nine-year-old boy, you're hurriedly making yourself up like the cowed wife of some abusive husband.
And she was forced to admit that she loved it. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her tits hung enticingly in her lacy black bra. Her pubic mound was an inviting swell in her panties, which clung to the fit and trim delta of her sex in a soaked film. "Showtime," she whispered.
She stepped back out of the hall and into Aiden's room, and the boy was already sitting on his bed, slouched and leaning back, just staring at her. His briefs were tight around his crotch, and the bulge of his unearthly cock was huge and wet. She knelt before him and gripped his underpants with both hands. "You leak so much, Aiden," she said, her voice soft. "You're soaked." She pulled the underpants down, over his 13 inches of flaccid, sweltering, smooth young cock. Over his thighs, over his knees, over his feet. "These are dirty," she said, still locking her eyes with his.
Oh god it smells like cum it smells like cum it smells like his fucking cum I want it so bad.
"Let me be your clothes hamper, ok?" she said. And then Naomi Cross, medical doctor, opened her mouth as wide as it could go, lips stretching, providing an opening for the boy. She wordlessly offered his underwear to him.
Aiden took the underpants in one young hand, and she got only one gasp before they were thrown on her face, soaked completely with his fragrant, sperm-reeking pre-cum. She inhaled, just a outlined face under red fabric, eyes rolling back, lungs hitching. The boy placed a hand deliberately on her face, thumb on chin, and began to stuff the jizz-sodden underwear into her mouth, making Naomi taste the leakage of his huge underage balls, raping her face with it.
Naomi fingered herself. It was all she could do. The smell of boycum exploded in her sinuses. Aiden used two fingers again, again, and again, stuffing more of the underwear into her mouth. Now her eyes were uncovered as the briefs balled up against her teeth and cheeks. She saw his expression and swooned anew.
Fuck he just looks like he's stuffing his nasty, cum-soaked underwear into a dirty laundry basket, that's all I am...
Aiden finished jamming and removed his hand. The underwear were a crotch-musk-steaming, underage-dick-dripping ball in her pretty mouth. She gagged. Sucked. Licked. Shuddered. Orgasmed.
"Hnk yuh!" she spewed, undignified.
Thank you.
Aiden strode into the bathroom and she crawled after him, ass swinging, back arched. A mindfucked 31-year-old woman in pursuit of her guiding star. She deposited the underpants in the real clothes hamper as she did- she would need her mouth free, after all, if she was going to get Aiden clean and ready for school. Her mind whirled.
I'm going to start with his toes. I'm going to lick his feet, one after the other...suck them, lick the bottoms, lick the tops.
I'm going to clean his legs, those thighs.
I'm going to lick his hands, his chest.
I'm going to suck his nipples, worship them with my tongue, make him feel special.
I'm going to suck the boysweat and seed off of his big sack.
I'm his.
They did it all. Naomi squatted like a stripper as she licked Aiden clean, asking him to turn, stoop and extend his extremities as needed. The stacked brunette turned her face into a boy's washrag, by her own will and desire, and his unnatural charisma. Her degraded tongue seemed to glide across his featureless, golden skin. Occasionally stopping to circle, poke or suck.
When he pissed, she let bent back over the toilet bowl and let him lay his flopping fuckmeat over her face, feeling his urethra vibrate as a massive urine stream erupted into the bowl behind her head. Her ponytail slopped into yellowing, bubbling water, and she did not care. "Aiden, you smell so fucking good..." she moaned, and after the boy had pissed for an astounding two minutes and began to abate, she drew her head back and absorbed the still-prodigious stream into her mouth as it waned, sucking loudly and obscenely, jerking the flaccid, 13-inch boycock with two hands as acrid urine blasted her teeth, tongue, and the back of her throat.
She took the last five seconds on her face, never showing him disrespect by blinking. Droplets of boypiss splattered her eyes and they still blazed for him. And then she sucked her own soaked ponytail like a cock, face-fucking herself with her own piss-soaked hair, raping more of his strong issue into her body, wanting her insides to be marked by him.
While he moved his bowels, she peeled down the foreskin of the boy's arm-thick pipe and sucked the underside of his weeping prick-helmet clean. "Fuck, you're amazing..." she said in a dazed voice, her mouth sucking up deposits of lumpy, musky smegma while Aiden voided himself powerfully only a foot and a half below her chin. When he was done, she knelt behind him and wiped him, first with toilet paper, then with her mouth, sliding her long and agile tongue up his ass. She cooed and moaned, sucked his underage cheeks worshipfully. She felt only pleasure, detected only the barnyard musk of a powerful animal's territory, freshly marked.
Fuck this kid is a fucking stud and I just want his goddamn donkey-dick baby in me...
He brushed his teeth with flavored toothpaste, working up a foam. Rinsed. She opened her mouth and accepted the torrent of paste and spit that poured out. She licked his lips clean of the minty remainder. The floor was becoming slick because of her dripping pussy. But it was time to stumble out to the kitchen, and leave Aiden to dress.
"Dress now, Aiden. I'll make you breakfast."
"Ok, Aunt Naomi." And she swooned pathetically, a grown woman, breasts bouncing, thighs thick and inviting, ass round and bubbled with the promise of fleshy impacts...swooning over a child.
The kitchen was a mess of unwashed plates, cups and glasses. Brooke had not kept the house in good repair since things had started to change- Aiden had had the run of the place. Washing dishes and mopping floors did not interest him. There were toys and video games. A flat-screen TV had been haphazardly installed on a makeshift stand, evidence of a hastily-granted request to watch while eating, something that might have come from a 9-year-old. Naomi grabbed the cleanest of the pans and began to cook Aiden's favorite, french toast. She knew this recipe, and he had been delighted to learn that. It was the one time she'd detected a child's simple and immature happiness from him...but it had been only for a moment. Because then...
...then I looked at his crotch and imagined getting assfucked by his big fucking underage cock like a stupid pedophile bitch and fucking loving it. God, the younger, the bigger, the better.
Yes, but Brooke wouldn't allow it. Not yet. First she had to prove herself. First, she had to serve Aiden. Yes, she would serve Aiden...and then, later, she would have his baby. But only after Brooke. Brooke, who had proven to be demanding and more than a little territorial, even when her tits were smaller, her throat shallower, her ability to service her own son lesser.
Naomi blinked. She had been staring at the wall over the stove. The toast needed turning. She found half-empty containers of syrup and powdered sugar. Aiden appeared, dressed for school. She served him French Toast with butter, powdered sugar, syrup and strawberries. She knelt beside him like a service maiden as he ate. Resting her head on the bulge in his school uniform, she listened to the sound of his chewing.
"Do you want breakfast too, Aunt Naomi?"
Oh god yes.
"Will you feed me?" Her voice was sickeningly hopeful. It was not her choice at all. She was not in control. His blue eyes shone into hers, and he nodded. Naomi unzipped the boy's fly with humiliating happiness. She fished out his massive fuckmeat while he continued to eat, jerking and sucking it lewdly, jacking the shaft with two hands. There was a glass mug on the floor, ineptly cleaned, the white-yellow film on it was evidence of previous depravities.
Aiden's cock reached half-hardness, now fifteen inches, looming horizontally like the neck of a brontosaur. She jacked it with pathetic hunger and held her cum-mug in the other hand, aiming Aiden's pisshole expertly, not wanting to miss a drop. Pre-cum sputtered and spurted in jets at first, but then there was a loose and liquid sound as the boy drew in a halting breath and orgasmed, his muscled tightening. Wet spurting noises were close to Naomi's ears as her ultra-virile surrogate son pumped yellow-white ropes of wad into the mug. They burbled from his big pisshole in slimy gouts, a minor orgasm but still far more than she'd ever seen any adult male produce. It turned her on, especially when the smell blasted her face.
"I love the smell of your nasty cum, Aiden" she commented, awestruck by the load. Her voice was a cathedral's penitent whisper. "Fuck up my face with it."
Seconds later, Naomi was left with a fat, seeping dick and a mug-full of lumpy boyjizz. She sucked the first clean, and then rose from beneath the table, mug in hand. Aiden was finished eating. His book-bag was by the door. The bus would arrive soon. She guided him to the kitchen door, which led directly outside. The front yard was unmowed. Bicycles and toys, a disused waterslide. All concessions to the boy. Brooke's inability to cope.
Unsuitability.
Naomi knelt again in her lewd stripper's squat, knees splayed, pubic mound puffing out for the boy to see. Aiden shouldered his book-bag and looked at her. She raised the mug to her lips.
"Thank you for feeding me, Aiden."
Naomi's mother had once told her that she had the neck of a swan. Long, flexible, shapely. It was true. Now, her neck bobbed in time with a pregnant gulping sound as she drank obscenely from the mug, tilting her head back, accepting the boy's heavy load into her body. She was dripping with sweat, lubrication, her torso taut and beautiful, her hips swelling to each side, ass popping behind her. Her gleaming brunette ponytail, still wet, flopped down her back like an amazonian pennon, crossing her straining bra-strap. Her tits were a heaving, cum-chugging shelf.
Naomi Cross, who had graduated from medical school, who had always dreamed of raising a daughter who would have a better life than her, who had moved to the suburbs to live the ideal American life, fingered herself to a pathetic, humiliating orgasm while she swallowed an underage boy's thick, nasty load. Her throat swelled with successive gulps as she swallowed it down to her taut and curvaceous MILF core.
I'm a 31-year-old garbage can who subsists on a little boy's cum now. I eat and drink from a 16-inch pipe that fills me up like a loaded condom.
She licked the rim like a cum-eating pedoslut. Boy-Bitch Naomi, her cheeks flush, her pretty mouth ringed with remnants of sperm, her white teeth gleaming under a sheen of wad.
"Have a good day at school, Aiden."
"I will, Aunt Naomi." The boy stepped out the door, one pantleg bulging with sated pubescent cock.
Naomi slid to a seated position on the floor and put two hands over her stomach, and closed her eyes. "I'm going to have your baby, Aiden," she whispered to herself, eyes shining with longing. There was nobody in the house to hear. Brooke was off, getting beauty treatments. "You need a real woman to bear your son."