Trailer Park Momma's Gooey CreamPie

"Um, well, erm, when you, er, when I... when you had an orgasm-"

"Where's this going?"

Jem's voice was tight, her body tensed uncomfortably.

"When you, when it happened, my mouth was... filled with..."

"Ewwwww, oh-my-fucking-god, no, no. Don't say that. Shit."

"I don't mean to upset you. Again."

"Look, I didn't ask you to- I didn't know you were gonna- I'm sorry you had to-"

"No, Jem, it's alright, really, I just wanted to know if, if that's what it was because... I really liked it."

"What!?"

"I, erm, liked it?"

"Tasting spunk? You liked it? What are you saying?"

"Well, not that but, you know," Benjamin toyed with the zip of his jacket, "Eating it out of you."

"Jesus fucking christ on a bike, Benji."

Jem put down the wet cup and turned around with a mix of wonder and confusion writ across her scowling face.

"You're a kinky lil' fucker, ain'tcha?" she laughed.

"Yeah," Benjamin smiled, blushing, "I suppose I am."

He loved this woman who accepted all his foibles and fetid fantasies without a single hesitation.

"Get going, you'll be late," she said, wiping her hands on a cloth.

"Only if I can get a kiss when I get home."

"Sure. Of course."

"What kind of kiss?"

Benjamin stood close to her, looking into his surrogate mother's sparkling amber eyes. She placed her lips on his and held them there, much longer than she had intended. What she thought would be a brief, passionless peck, turned into a longer loving kiss. Their lips pressed together, only barely moving, delighting in the stillness of their intimacy. Slowly, they both drew back and their lips lost contact. Jem gave him one more tiny kiss, for luck.

"Now, beat it, kid," she said, "You're under my feet."

"Yes, Momma."

Left alone, Jemima tried to coalesce the deviant thoughts that were ping-ponging around her brain. She tidied up. She had her routine argument with the neighbour while smoking a few cigarettes. She tried sudoku, which usually calmed her down. Nothing worked. Her fingers tapped, her foot twitched, her mind would not rest.

"Shit," she said to no one and walked into the bedroom.

She lay on the bed and hooked up her legs to whip off her damp panties. She examined the soiled crotch, both the moistness and the musky aroma were evidence of her crooked, crazy lust that was prowling around her imagination liked a caged wolf.

She yanked up her teeshirt to expose her breasts and began to masturbate. Her fingers danced across her flesh, tweaking her nipples, groping her boobs the way a teenager might; sliding in and out of her wet slit, circling inside as she knowingly rubbed her inner walls. In her mind, they were not her own fingers. Her breathing became faster along with her frustratingly small fingers as they flashed in and out of her unfulfilled pussy. Despite the lack of a hard, fat cock, she felt the welcoming sensation of her own viscous fluids coating her fingers and soaking into her skin. She would enjoy the secret thrill of smelling her pussy-scent on her flesh for the rest of the day. It's a wonderful feeling to be standing in line at the store, reliving through the sense of smell a private sexual memory, heightened by being surrounded by unknowing people.

Roughly half an hour had passed before she felt the escalating sensations of orgasm washing over her distended nerves. Usually her self-love would not take this long, she had a filthy mind and adored revelling in her dark desires as she touched herself but today was different, her conscience was fighting her lurid imagination. Parts of her brain were wrestling with other parts in a moral battle for supremacy over her intentions: 'Surely you wouldn't want to... Not Benjamin, surely? Your little Benji-wenji-boo, your boy, your... He's not actually your actual son. There's nothing illegal about it. He's cute. So cute, when he looks so innocently horny. His eyes just eat you up, he wants you so badly you can feel the energy radiating out of him. He would be eager to learn. You could do things that would blow his mind. He's undeniably hot, when you really look at him, as a woman, not as a Mom. It's a betrayal of trust? Of parental care? He didn't seem overly concerned about that when he was giving you head last night. He loves you. He wants you. You want him. Shit.'

Forceful waves of animal lust were dragging her closer to the edge but she seemed not to be able to fall, to dive, to descend into the all-encompassing cosmic blankness of orgasm. She was too preoccupied. She thought about the small dildo in her bedside cabinet and thought it would be a sorry substitute for the real thing but it was the only cock she had to hand.

"Hot damn! Hello!"

Bobby's voice snapped her briefly back into reality, the reality that she was laying on her back and masturbating like a sex-crazed monkey.

"Yes!" she yelled, "Come on, baby, I need you!"

"Don't mind if I do," Bobby chuckled as he unbuckled his jeans and pushed them down to his ankles.

He fell on top of her and kissed her sloppily, their spit-sluiced tongues sliding around like a pair of slugs. Their love-making was rarely charming but usually a booze-fuelled rush of frantic nasty-minded humping; it often felt like a race to see who could get off first. Her impatient hands sought out his prick to guide his fat meat-head inside her.

"Baby, get it hard for me, I need it."

Bobby tried his best to rise to the challenge in her voice. Jem was thinking her Benji would be fucking hard by now. She could feel his not-nearly-hard-enough dick trying to squish against her pussylips, failing to break her open. They struggled in vain for a several minutes more before she pushed him off and he rolled on to his back. She flipped over on to her stomach and squealed into a pillow, vocalising her utter dissatisfaction. Bobby had the gallantry to apologise for not spearing his maiden adequately, it was the gentlemanly thing to do.

"Sorry, honey-badger," he said when her red face emerged from the pillow cocoon, "You just caught me by surprise, is all."

"It's alright, lover."

"Maybe, given a little time, I..."

"Forget about it."

"You wanna get high?"

"Sure," she sighed.

Bobby reached into his scrunched up jeans and fished out a crumpled joint. He sparked it up and the room filled with perfumed smoke. Jem lay her head on his bare chest and was calmed by his ever cool demeanour, his heartbeat was relaxed like a reggae bass guitar booming slow.

"You're on fire," Bobby said, puffing out a plume, "What's got into you?"

Jem's eyebrows raised at the irony of his question and her mind drifted off to the kiss she'd promised to give her virile young man when he returned home.