Mommy Mind Control Chapter 1: Mommy’s Naughty Lesson

Mommy Mind Control
A Story of the Institute of Apotheosis Research
Chapter One: Mommy’s Naughty Lesson
By mypenname3000
Copyright 2017

Note: Thanks to wrc264 for beta reading this!

“You’re looking sharp,” I said to my eldest son as he came downstairs in a pair of jeans and a tight t-shirt tucked in. He always wore t-shirts too tight for him. He loved to show off how ripped he was. My sixteen-year-old son was such a handsome man, so much like his father.

“Hot date, Mom,” Ryan answered, his brown hair styled back with far too much hair gel. But it made his features, that perfect blend of boyish youth and manly vigor, pop.

“With that Melissa?” I asked, trying not to put my disdain into my voice. “I don’t know why you waste time with that girl.”

“Sure you do, Mom,” he grinned at me, his smile so bold. “You were a teenager once.”

“And dating your father,” I answered. And I was nothing like that little trollop. Melissa had trouble written all over her. I was terrified of the day Ryan would come home and announce that he was going to be a father, that he had knocked up little miss miniskirt. “Why don’t you ever ask Annie out? She’s a sweet girl.”

“Yeah, sweet,” Ryan said, shaking his head. “Exactly the problem.”

Annie lived next door and had been in love with Ryan since they were kids. She was perfect for him, but she didn’t have those big tits that boys looked at. She wasn’t wild. She was the type of girl Ryan would wake up one day and realize was what he needed.

And then it would be too late. Another guy would have appreciated her.

But he didn’t want to listen to his mother. Neither of my sons did. Which was terrible. Their father died ten years ago, and I had never found a man to replace him. They had no male role model to set them straight. If Mitchel were alive, he would explain to his son the perks of dating the nice girl next door and not one of those slutty chicks who will fuck anyone.

“You are missing out with Annie,” I told him as he grabbed his jacket. “Trust me.”

“Uh-huh, missing out,” he said, that grin on his eyes. I really hoped he had a condom on him. If I asked, he would just act weird and freak out.

I missed Mitchel so much. He could have handled this.

My other son, fourteen, came downstairs. He was vastly different from his older brother. Where Ryan was tall, muscular, outgoing, Davie was slim, short, and shy. A quiet boy who didn’t have many friends. And certainly no girlfriends. Ryan was on his fourth or fifth girlfriend at Davie’s age.

“Hi,” I said to my baby boy. “How’s it going?”

He shrugged.

“Mom wants me to date Annie,” Ryan said as he walked by, ruffling Davie’s brown hair.

“Better than Melissa,” I said. “She’ll break your heart.”

“No she won’t. She’s crazy about me.” He flashed the peace sign, trying to look like a badass before he headed out the door.

I shook my head. “Neither of you ever listen to your mother.”

Davie shrugged.

“And what exciting things are you doing for your Friday night?” I asked my youngest as he sat down at the kitchen table.

“Playing video games,” he answered.

I rolled my eyes. “Wouldn’t your rather be playing with a girl.”

His cheeks went crimson as he groaned, “Mom.”

“Oh, honey, it’s really worth it. I know you’re shy, but your father was, too. But he asked me out when he was your age. And we were happy together.” I shivered, remembering our first time. How shy he was, how trembling. We were both so scared. I had to take the lead, just so horny for Mitchel, so in love.

I bet it would give Davie such confidence if he had someone to show him about sex. Not a slutty girl like Melissa, but someone that could educate him without breaking his heart. Someone older.

“So there’s no girls you like?” I asked. “Or boys? That’s fine, too.”

“Mom!” he groaned even louder. He shifted. “What’s for dinner?”

“Is there someone?” I asked. “Answer, and I’ll order pizza for dinner.”

He frowned at me, his eyes growing distant his forehead furrowing. He was thinking about it. How sad was it that I had to bribe my son with pizza just to get some information from him, to learn something about him.

“Yes, there’s a girl,” he finally admitted.

“Who?” I asked, a surge of eagerness shooting through me. I sat down next to him, leaning over.

That was when I noticed his eyes flick down, staring at my breasts. His cheeks went crimson. I was wearing a scoop-neck blouse, giving my large breasts a generous cleavage. I worked hard to stay in good shape, so I liked to dress to show it off. But I had never really thought my baby boy would notice.

But he did. He was staring down my cleavage.

And that sent a wicked thrill through me. My son was appreciating my charms. He thought his mother had a big pair of breasts. It made me lean closer to him, giving him more of a view while I stared at his face.

“Come one, tell me her name,” I said, a purring catch growing in my voice. “You can tell your mother.”

He ripped his eyes away, scooting his chair closer to the table. He must be hiding his hardon. That sent a wicked thrill through me. I made my son get excited. It made me feel so womanly, so desirable in a way I hadn’t since Mitchel’s passing.

And Davie looked so much like his father, that same boyish shyness that had matured into a masculine handsomeness after our wedding at nineteen, both of us done with our first year of college. His hair was that same fine, soft brown that was so easy to ruffle into a messy nest.

“You just said I had to admit it for pizza,” he said, not looking at me but at his hands. “Okay, Mom?”

“Okay, Davie,” I told him. I ruffled his hair and, unable to resist, leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

That made him squirm even more.

“Do you want pepperoni on your half?” I asked him, reaching for my phone.

“And sausage,” he answered. “And green peppers.”

“Oh, you like green peppers on pizza now?” I asked him.

He shrugged.

“Okay.” I stood up, fetching my phone from the kitchen counter where it was being charged. I swear it had to spend more time plugged into the wall then out of it. Maybe I needed a new one.

“I’m going to…play video games,” Davie said then bolted out of the living room, his hands conspicuously over his crotch.

I smiled as I called the pizza place, listening to his footsteps race up the stairs and dart down the hallway. His door opened and then slammed shut. I heard his bed creak. But I didn’t hear his TV come on and the tell-tale explosions of a video game.

He was masturbating. To me.

That sent a wild thrill through my pussy. This naughty rush that had me shivering in delight as very unmotherly ideas popped into my head. It was a shame that I couldn’t go up there and teach him about women. I could show him how wonderful sex was, and encourage him to ask out this girl he had a crush on.

I bet she would be just as sweet as Annie next door.

I wonder if Ryan ever masturbated to me? Did he stare at my body the way Davie had? As I placed the order, giving my information by rote, I reflected back on all the little things that I had never quite realized before: Ryan staring at my tits and ass, Ryan ogling me in a bathrobe or when I had on a pair of tight shorts, how eager he was to help with the yard work last summer when I was wearing that really tight tank top.

I just thought he was being a loving son and stepping up as the man of the house.

I glanced down at my blouse as I hung up on the pizza place and blinked. My nipples made quite the impression on the blue fabric, tenting into two hard points. I bet I could chisel cement with them. And I was so wet.

I considered joining my son in masturbation. Wouldn’t that be exciting? Rubbing myself thinking about my sons, Davie and Ryan. What would they look like naked? Were their cocks as big as their father’s? I had little experience with guys. Their father was my first, and after he died, I had only dated a handful of times, all horrible disappointments. Their father, I think, was bigger than average.

He always felt so wonderful in me.

I bet they would match him. They were both so much like him in their own ways.

I had just made up my mind when my phone rang. It was my friend, Cathy Dawson. I sighed as I answered it. “Hey, Cathy.”

“You would not believe what my son just did,” Cathy said as she launched into a long, overly described story about her son’s newest antics. I shook my head, politely listening. I liked Cathy a lot. And normally I loved to gossip with her.

But right now, I was so horny. Upstairs, my son was stroking his cock—I pictured his father’s thick, long specimen in place of my son’s—hard and fast, using that lotion I found in his room a few weeks ago next to the box of tissues, both hidden beneath his bed. I pictured him imagining my naked tits, so big and pillowy and soft, squeezing them, sucking on them before fucking me with his cock. His cock would cum so hard, spurting his jizz into the tissue paper.

It made my mouth water. I always loved swallowing their father’s cum. I would do anything for Mitchel.

My heart panged for their father now. I missed him so much.

“Can you believe it, Margaret?” Cathy demanded. “Now I have to take him to the mall tomorrow to buy a replacement. Because, of course, he doesn’t have a job and can’t do it himself.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” I said, my horniness passing as I thought of my husband.

And then the doorbell rang.

“Listen, I have to go. Our dinner’s here.”

“Oh, yes, you have a good night, Margaret,” Cathy said.

“You, too. Try not to kill your son.” Maybe try fucking him. I flushed at that thought zooming through my mind. “Night.”

I hung up as the doorbell rang again. I hurried to the door and found a disheveled, greasy-haired boy holding the pizza in a red, vinyl bag to keep them warm. He yanked out the box and quoted the price. I pulled out a twenty and two ones.

“Keep the change,” I said.

“Cool, Mrs.