The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Only Teasing

by Pan

Chapter 6

I was laying on my bed, desperately trying to deep-throat a thick blue dildo as my son watched.

I love showing off my body, and I love cumming in front of my son. It’s only teasing.

Giving head has always been one of my talents, and I’ve always enjoyed it.

If he gets turned on by my body, that’s totally natural.

I love teasing my son, masturbating in front of him and letting him watch me cum. I was such a cock-tease.

It’s totally harmless.

But as I was almost choking on the fake cock, I realized something.

Blow-jobs aren’t sex.

My brow furrowed, and I slowly removed the dildo from my throat. It was covered in my saliva, and so I moved it between my legs, gasping as it entered me.

Blow-jobs aren’t sex.

There was no point in sucking on that fake cock—after all, I was trying to get off, not put on a show.

I love cumming in front of my son.

Within a few minutes, I was clenching around the blue toy, and Cecil had wandered off. I slipped on a teddy and went to find him.

Blow-jobs aren’t sex. Blow-jobs aren’t sex. Blow-jobs aren’t sex.

When they’d impeached Clinton, that was what had gotten him off. In both senses. Blow-jobs aren’t sex, otherwise he would have had to step down.

No, blow-jobs aren’t sex.

It’s only teasing.

I found Cecil in the den—he was laying back. His eyes were closed, but I could tell he was awake—it looked like he was concentrating really hard on something.

Blow-jobs aren’t sex. Blow-jobs aren’t sex.

My son has needs.

A smile crept across my face, and I realized: this was the perfect opportunity to tease him.

I’m a hot bitch.

I just loved teasing my son—it reminded me what a sexy woman I was. A few times now, I’d rubbed my son’s cock through his pants—once to orgasm, with my feet, but mostly I’d bring him to the brink with my hands and then walk away.

It’s only teasing.

I was always trying to find new and creative ways to tease him.

I’m a hot bitch.

I’d found a website that let me order lingerie online, and so I had new deliveries coming to the house every few days.

If he gets turned on by my body, that’s totally natural. My son is a healthy male.

Just the day prior, instead of wearing a bra, I’d covered my breasts with whipped cream…

My son has needs.

…and then let him lick it off.

It’s only teasing.

I loved feeling sexy again. Once you turn forty, it’s like the world forgets you’re a woman.

Well, not Cecil.

Not my son.

It’s completely harmless.

I was so glad that we were close enough to tease each other like this. I loved my boy so much.

My son has needs.

And seeing him there, concentrating so hard—probably on school, poor dear—I knew exactly how I was going to tease him.

Blow-jobs aren’t sex. Blow-jobs aren’t sex. Blow-jobs aren’t sex.

As I approached my son, his breathing got heavier. Whatever assignment he was mentally working on, whatever problem he was trying to solve, it sure seemed like a tricky one.

Blow-jobs aren’t sex. It’s only teasing. It’s totally harmless.

He didn’t even stir as I reached up one of the legs of his baggy shorts, and wrapped my hand around his cock. My eyes widened as I realized what I was doing…this was my son, and I was touching his bare cock…

I’m such a cock-tease.

I smiled—I was touching his bare cock.

It’s only teasing.

I frowned—he was so worked up already…

My son has needs.

My son has needs, and here I was, teasing him. I loosened my grip on his thick erection, and I heard him grunt with frustration.

I’m a wet, horny slut. If he gets turned on by my body, that’s totally natural.

No. No, I couldn’t do this—my poor Cecil. Constantly being teased by a wet, horny slut—he couldn’t help getting turned on!

I was the adult here. I was the one to blame.

And I couldn’t do this.

I got off my knees, and started to leave. At the door, I paused, and looked back at Cecil—he was practically dripping with sweat. I wondered what he was working on that required such exertion.

I’m such a cock-tease

I’m such a cock-tease

I’m such a cock-tease

I’m such a cock-tease

As I looked at him, a cruel thought entered my brain.

I am SUCH a cock-tease.

I knew that the right thing to do was to leave my darling boy to concentrate, to let him focus on his studies. A good mother would go upstairs and cook him a delicious meal, maybe clean his room and make his bed.

But me?

I was such a cock-tease.

I was such a cock-tease that I couldn’t resist crossing the room, kneeling back in front of Cecil, and undoing his pants.

I was such a cock-tease that I couldn’t resist running my hands up and down his thickness, grinning at the sight of the erection in front of me.

I was such a cock-tease that even though I knew it was an objectively awful thing to do, I had to tease him. I had to bring him to the brink of orgasm—god, it’s so awful to think about oneself, but it’s true. I am such a cock-tease.

Blow-jobs aren’t sex.

What Cecil needed was to get laid. That would relieve his tension, that would make my son happy.

Right then and there, that was what my son needed.

I’m such a cock-tease

But I was such a cock-tease—and his mother—that he certainly wasn’t to get it from me.

Blow-jobs aren’t sex. It’s only teasing.

It’s completely harmless.

No, all he was going to get from me was something completely innocent. All he was going to get from his hot bitch of a mother was some head.

I tucked my grinning teeth away, and brought my mouth to the head of his penis. As I engulfed Cecil’s erection in my mouth, he gave a huge sigh of relief.

I still felt cruel, teasing my son like this, but there was something hot about it, too. Turning a healthy male like Cecil on, making him so hard, so worked up…and then further teasing him with a blow-job.

I’m a wet, horny slut.

As I swallowed down my son’s cum, a warm glow filled my body. I felt so good about myself—I may have been over 40, but I could still work a teenage boy up and then go down on him.

I was still a hot bitch, a sexy woman.

And such a cock-tease.